#my one spark of entertainment extinguished

[panharmonium]

i see teen wolf decided to go whole hog on the ‘romantic relationships that appear out of nowhere and have zero prior foundation’ subplots

[elryuse]

How about a princess!wonyoung x butler!reader, where the wonyoung always gets reader's time even on holidays and never letting him leave?

My Personal Butler

Yandere Princess Wonyoung X Butler Reader

Wonyoung, a princess sculpted from pure porcelain and icy disdain, lounged on her chaise lounge, her crimson gown pooling around her like a spilled sunset. Boredom clung to her like a suffocating fog. The gilded cage of the palace, once a playground of privilege, now felt like a gilded prison.

"Y/n," she drawled, her voice flat and emotionless. Y/n, her butler, materialized from the corner of the room like a phantom, his youthful face betraying none of the weariness that gnawed at him. Two years younger than Wonyoung, he had been gifted to her like a prized possession – a living plaything for her boundless ennui.

"Yes, Princess?" Y/n bowed, his voice a low murmur.

"I'm dreadfully bored," Wonyoung announced, her eyes glinting with a cruel amusement. "Entertain me."

For the next hour, Y/n became her jester, her acrobat, her unwilling confidante. He was forced to recite Shakespeare in a cockney accent, juggle lit candles while blindfolded, and translate a forgotten language he didn't understand. Through it all, Wonyoung watched with impassive amusement, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

This was their life, a cruel dance of master and servant. Y/n, the ever-obliging puppet, Wonyoung, the capricious puppeteer. But a single night shattered the rhythm of their dance.

A royal decree arrived, announcing Wonyoung's betrothal to a pompous prince from a neighboring kingdom. Wonyoung, her face a mask of cold fury, slammed the parchment onto the table. "Marry him? Marry that… buffoon?"

Y/n, taken aback by the raw emotion in her voice, stammered, "But Princess, surely…"

"Surely nothing!" Wonyoung snapped, her eyes locking onto his. "He's dull, Y/n. As dull as this gilded cage! I won't be a pawn in their political games."

For the first time, Y/n saw a flicker of vulnerability in her icy gaze. It was a fleeting glimpse, quickly extinguished by a steely resolve. Yet, it sparked a change within Wonyoung. Her focus shifted from mere amusement to a chilling possessiveness.

Wonyoung's demands became more frequent, even on his days off. "Clean the entire library by tomorrow," she'd say, her voice devoid of warmth. "Research ancient poisons in a language you don't understand – quickly."

Y/n, initially accommodating, began to see the underlying current – an obsessive need for his constant presence. He tried to reason with her, to explain his exhaustion, but his words were met with a glacial silence or a cruel smile that sent shivers down his spine.

Desperate, he attempted escape. Under the cloak of a moonless night, he scaled the palace walls, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. But freedom was a cruel illusion. The next morning, he found himself back in Wonyoung's chambers, a cold smile twisting her lips.

"Leaving me, Y/n?" she purred, her voice like velvet-wrapped steel. In her hand, she held a parchment, a personal contract with an ornate wax seal.

"This," she explained, her voice devoid of emotion, "ensures you'll never leave my side. A lifetime contract, wouldn't you say? You'll be my constant companion, my confidante, my… entertainment."

Y/n's blood ran cold. He scanned the contract, the legalese a blur of servitude. Trapped. He was trapped forever in the gilded cage with a love that was as cold and beautiful as the princess who held him captive.

Wonyoung leaned closer, her eyes glinting with a chilling possessiveness. "Now," she whispered, her voice a caress, "tell me another story, Y/n. Do make it a long one. After all, we have an eternity together."

Y/n, his hands shaking, opened his mouth to speak. He knew escape was no longer an option. But a new resolve hardened within him. He would survive this gilded prison, navigate the treacherous currents of Wonyoung's twisted love. Perhaps, someday, he might even find a way to melt the ice around her heart. Or maybe, he was destined to be her plaything forever, a prisoner in a gilded cage ruled by a love as beautiful as it was terrifying.

Life in the gilded cage took on a suffocating new rhythm. Y/n, bound by the ironclad contract, became Wonyoung's constant shadow. He followed her through endless court functions, her silent guardian, a living secret kept close to her heart.

"Smile, Y/n," Wonyoung hissed one evening, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. They were at a particularly lavish ball, a gathering of nobles where Wonyoung, despite her disdain, had to maintain a facade of regal amusement.

Y/n forced a smile onto his face, the muscles in his cheeks screaming in protest. "Is something wrong, Princess?" he dared to ask, his voice barely a murmur above the clinking of glasses and boisterous laughter.

Wonyoung's eyes narrowed. "Everything is wrong," she spat, her voice barely a whisper. "These courtly buffoons, their vapid conversations, the suffocating expectations… I hate them all."

Y/n swallowed hard, the weight of her words heavy in the air. He understood her frustration, the gilded cage felt like a prison for him too. But unlike Wonyoung, he couldn't lash out, couldn't break free.

"Perhaps," he ventured, his voice cautious, "we could… take a walk in the palace gardens later? Get some fresh air?"

Wonyoung's gaze softened for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something akin to gratitude in her icy eyes. "Perhaps," she conceded, her lips curling into a small, almost hesitant smile.

Later that night, beneath the cloak of a star-dusted sky, they walked in silence. The scent of jasmine and night-blooming lilies filled the air, a stark contrast to the stifling opulence of the palace.

"You know," Wonyoung said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper, "you're the only one here who truly listens. The others… they only see the princess, the symbol. They don't see Wonyoung."

Y/n stopped, turning to face her. The moonlight cast an ethereal glow on her face, highlighting the vulnerability that peeked through the cracks of her icy demeanor.

"I see you, Princess," he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet sincerity. "I see the boredom, the frustration, the loneliness."

A single tear traced a path down Wonyoung's cheek, a shimmering testament to the emotions she usually kept buried deep. She quickly brushed it away, her voice hardening.

"Don't pity me, Y/n," she snapped, a flicker of her old imperiousness returning. "I am a princess. I am strong."

Y/n shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Strength doesn't mean the absence of tears, Princess. It means letting yourself feel them, then rising above them."

Their eyes locked, a silent conversation passing between them. In that moment, Y/n wasn't just a servant, and Wonyoung wasn't just a princess. They were two souls trapped in a gilded cage, finding solace in each other's company.

The silence stretched, filled with a new kind of tension. Wonyoung leaned forward, her breath warm against his cheek. "Tell me a story, Y/n," she whispered, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it. "A story about a world beyond these gilded walls, a world where love isn't a cage."

Y/n, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs, began to weave a tale. He spoke of faraway lands, of breathtaking landscapes, and of love stories that defied societal boundaries. As he spoke, Wonyoung's eyes drifted closed, a peaceful expression settling on her face.

He wasn't sure if he was telling the story for her or for himself. Maybe, in the quiet intimacy of the moonlit garden, a seed of hope had been planted. A hope that even in the confines of their gilded cage, a love as twisted and beautiful as theirs could somehow bloom. But the future remained uncertain, a melody yet to be played in the gilded cage's chilling song.

[blue-grama]

A little Film/Jam requeim

Upon the news that these two are not planning any projects together in the future, I was pondering Thai actor pairings and why I liked this particular one. First let me say I'm very in favor of actors not getting joined at the hip forever -- I doubt that's why anyone gets into acting, and while I get the financial reasons this happens in Thai entertainment, I'm generally in agreement that it tends to limit creativity, since the brand often has to come before the story. My only gripe is that now they're off doing lakorns that will never get subbed in English and it's not fair and look, I need to see The Empress of Ayodhaya ok?? I don't think it's a bad thing to have actors with great chemistry appear together in multiple shows, however, and I wanna say that I think these two used that opportunity right. Look, we have Tian:

Utter cinammon roll, too pure for this world, total sweetheart. He's a little scared and a lot beaten down, but he still has a burning spark of respect for himself that he doesn't let extinguish. He spends 73% of this show in the throes of a mental breakdown but still manages to take control of his narrative in the end. It's actively insane that the murder glitter show has such fantastic characters.

And then you have Charn, who is...

... also beaten down by this world, but evil about it. It's all manipulation, manwhoring, and complicated smiles belaying his real feelings with this guy. Refreshingly, he only has to reform himself a little bit to get his happy ending.

Meanwhile, Jiu. Assassin, kind of a tsundere. Marshmallow center, obviously. I'll never be over how after he and Tian first had sex (under the influence of a beetle fungus, OBVIOUSLY), he got deeply hurt that Tian said it was a mistake and accused Tian of doing this to all the boys. Possibly my favorite Jiu moment. ANYWAY.

There isn't as much distance between Jiu and Tinn as there is between Tian and Charn (from what I've seen, Jam maybe doesn't have quite as much range as Film, or at least hasn't been asked to demonstrate it). But Tinn is a more open and straightforward character, the moral center of Laws of Attraction versus a guy who assassinates several people with scissors without remorse in Khun Chai.

Point is, we don't always get this with repeated actor pairings. A lot of the time, you have an underlying dynamic that comes through in all the pair's shows, and it can't wander too far from its origins - I was thinking about this specifically with regards to Only Friends after listening to this excellent debut of the Part 5 (of 4) podcast, which talks about the way Force's Top turned into a completely flat character, possibly because "interesting" would conflict with the whole True Love ForceBook dynamic that GMMTV needs to sell. An appealing dynamic can be great -- hey, I read fanfic, I get the joy of putting the same guy in situations -- but I really liked how Film and Jam went with/were given quite different characters in their two projects together. This could be a lakorn vs. BL thing, but it'd be cool to see more paired actors take on more disparate roles together!

My disappointment over no more shows from these two comes down to wishing I could see what else they might pull off. Jam as the rich jerk instead of Film? Both of them playing morally grey? It could have been fun.

Oh well; I'll just be over here lighting candles for English subs from One31, because at least this hot murderous royalty nonsense looks exquisite.

And if you've read this far, please feel free to drop me recs in the tags or comments of other pairs that have played really different roles or dynamics with each other. I love seeing actors show their range!

[sona-verse01]

PAC

CHANNELLED LOVE QUOTES & SONGS

Take deep breath, and choose the picture/number that calls you.

Quotes from your Future spouse/partner (not your crush).

Disclaimer:

Images/quotes/songs are not mine. Found on internet.

Since, I am very bad in writing quotes, I channel messages & feelings, then search for suitable quotes on internet, that have same message.

Some quotes are a part of a song or poem. Others are written by writers.

Quotes are chosen on the basis of your FS/FP's energy, feelings & messages.

For entertainment purpose.

Don't copy/steal/translate my work.

Songs are in Indian languages, so if you don't understand that language, you can look for translation or just leave it.

Pile 1

Quotes:

"I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once."

"Hit me like a ray of sun, Burning through my darkest night. You're the only one that I want, Think I'm addicted to your light."

"If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk through my garden forever."

"He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

"Take me into your loving arms, Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars, Place your head on my beating heart, I'm thinking out loud, Maybe we found love right where we are."

"Being with you and not being with you is the only way I have to measure time."

"Grow old along with me; the best is yet to be."

"Every love story is beautiful, but ours is my favorite."

"Because of you, I laugh a little harder, cry a little less, and smile a lot more."

"I like to be alone. But I would rather be alone with you."

Songs:

Pile 2

Quotes:

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height, My soul can reach."

"Cause all of me loves all of you. Love your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections."

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

"Absence is to love as wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small and kindles the great."

"I carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)."

'"How do you spell 'love'?" - Piglet. "You don't spell it...you feel it." - Pooh'

"I may not be your first date, kiss or love... but I want to be your last everything."

"One day, we'll never have to say goodbye, just good night."

"When you smile at me you brighten up my day more than the sun ever could."

"When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

Songs:

Pile 3

Quotes:

"Baby it's you. You're the one I love, You're the one I need, You're the only one I see."

"When I say I love you more, I don't mean I love you more than you love me. I mean I love you more than the bad days ahead of us, I love you more than any fight we will ever have. I love you more than the distance between us, I love you more than any obstacle that could try and come between us. I love you the most."

"Maybe I don't know that much but I know this much is true, I was blessed because I was loved by you."

"Love is missing someone when you're apart, but somehow feeling warm inside because you're close in the heart."

"You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear."

"Love is friendship set on fire and you are my spark."

"If I know what love is, it is because of you."

"I hope you don't mind that I put down in words, How wonderful life is while you're in the world."

"Come live in my heart and pay no rent."

"Together with you is my favorite place to be."

Songs:

Pile 4

Quotes:

"Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you.' Mature love says 'I need you because I love you.'"

"Life is a flower of which love is the honey."

"Don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep, 'Cause I'd miss you baby, and I don't want to miss a thing."

"Romance is the glamour which turns the dust of everyday life into a golden haze."

"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies."

"Love is a friendship set to music."

"For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home."

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."

"Love is not only something you feel, it is something you do."

Songs:

Reblog if you like it.

Reply or send an ask for feedback.

Follow for more.

Check out my masterlist as well.

© @sp22sworld - All Rights Reserved

[escapingrealityforamoment]

Hi! I love your writing so much! Can I request a Jonah one shot? Can you write something like, the reader is a famous actress and singer who is really well known, and goes to the little mermaid premiere and meets Jonah there and he’s super starstruck and they end up falling for each other?

Thank you so much love for your request! I hope you enjoy reading this and I enjoyed writing it 💖

The night was filled with excitement and anticipation as Hollywood's elite gathered for the highly anticipated premiere of "The Little Mermaid." As cameras flashed and fans clamored for a glimpse of their favorite stars, I stepped out of my car, feeling a mix of nervousness and thrill. As a renowned actress and singer, I was no stranger to red carpet events, but tonight felt different. It was as if destiny had something extraordinary in store for me.

As I walked down the red carpet, the air crackled with energy, and I couldn't help but catch glimpses of familiar faces and rising stars. Among the crowd, my eyes locked with Jonah Hauer-King, the talented actor who portrayed the film's prince. His captivating smile and kind eyes drew me in, and for a moment, time stood still.

As if pulled by an invisible force, our paths converged, and Jonah approached me with a mixture of awe and excitement on his face. "I can't believe I'm meeting you," he confessed, his voice laced with a hint of nervousness.

A blush tinted my cheeks as I replied, "The feeling is mutual. I've admired your work for so long."

We engaged in conversation, and as the night unfolded, I discovered a kindred spirit in Jonah. We laughed, exchanged stories, and shared our love for the arts. It was as if we had known each other for years, effortlessly connecting on a profound level.

Throughout the premiere, we found ourselves drawn to each other's company, seeking solace amidst the chaos of the event. We stole moments between interviews and photo sessions, our conversations filled with laughter and genuine interest. With each passing interaction, the spark between us grew stronger, undeniable and impossible to ignore.

Under the starlit sky, we found ourselves on a balcony overlooking the bustling city. The hum of the premiere faded into the background as we locked eyes, and the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of us in that magical moment.

"I never expected to meet someone like you tonight," Jonah admitted, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and vulnerability. "You're everything I've ever admired, and so much more."

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I replied, "And you, Jonah, are a beacon of talent and charm. Meeting you has been an absolute joy."

In that instant, the unspoken words hung heavy in the air. The undeniable chemistry between us had ignited a flame that couldn't be extinguished. The premiere had brought us together, and now, we stood on the precipice of a love that promised to transcend the glamour and fame.

As the night wore on, we held hands, intertwining our fingers as we walked through the crowd, no longer separate entities but two souls entwined in a tapestry of fate. The world watched as we danced, laughed, and embraced the chaos of the evening, finding solace in each other's arms.

In the midst of the celebration, Jonah leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want this night to end," he confessed. "I want to explore this connection we have and see where it leads."

I nodded, my heart racing with excitement. "I feel the same way, Jonah. Let's embark on this journey together."

And with that, our love story began—a tale woven amidst the glitz and glamour of the entertainment world. From that magical night, our lives intertwined, each chapter more enchanting than the last.

As we stepped into the unknown, hand in hand, we knew that our love would be a constant amidst the chaos. With our hearts aligned and a shared passion for the arts, we were ready to face the world together, embracing the magic of love and the beauty of our intertwined destinies.

[smiledotdeer]

@ritzy-cervidae​ | plotted & closed starter

Cal has always enjoyed touring the various dark corners of Pentagram City when he has nothing better to do; he never knows what he might find hiding there.

As it turns out, tonight he finds a club that seems well-suited for him: flashy lights on the sign, upbeat music playing from inside, and patrons that seem to mostly be from the same era as himself.

To say he’s delighted would be an understatement.

He heads inside, and he takes note of what he presumes are a couple of bouncers near the door glancing at one another with puzzled expressions as he passes them by.

Cal doesn’t pay anyone else too much mind, aside from the occasional friendly grin and wave whenever someone looks his way. They seem confused, too, and that, in turn, puzzles him. Was it really so odd for the Radio Demon with a love for big band jazz to want to spend time here?

If only he knew.

Of course he chooses to sit at one of the better seats available: near the stage, but not so close that it’s right in his face. A cigar is pulled from the pocket in his vest and tucked between his teeth before he snaps the fingers of his right hand and lights it with the flicker of green flame that sparks to life atop his thumb.

The tender comes by and smoothly slides a glass in front of him, making Cal blink once as he tucks that thumb into his palm to extinguish the flame. Strange. He hadn’t ordered yet. Why is he—

“You better drink that down fast, Alastor!” the other demon advises in a cheerful tone. He doesn’t seem confused like everyone else he’s seen so far, or even intimidated like most that talk to him, but what comes next serves to further Cal’s own befuddlement. “Your set’s due any minute now, after all!”

“My set...? I’m afraid I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re—“

All at once, the lights in the club dim down with a loud clunk, and all heads, Cal’s included, turn towards the stage, where another demon strolls on out holding a microphone so he can make an announcement.

“Dearly beloved, for your entertainment, it is my pleasure to introduce to you the Radio Demon himself: Alastor!”

The bar erupts in applause, and then he strolls on out: himself. Not exact, of course—Cal’s found that he isn’t like most of his other selves—but it’s definitely an alternate. The music starts up again for a new song, and then that alternate is singing.

His swirled ears perk straight up, he blinks again...and then he grins even wider than before, clearly delighted and amused by this unexpected twist. Now he gets it: the confused looks and the bartender’s presumption of what he’d be drinking. They thought he was already here getting ready for this performance!

He doesn’t notice said tender having a slight crisis behind him over the fact that oh my god there’s TWO of them, since his eyes are glued attentively to the other deer demon gracing the stage with both song and dance alike. The song itself is catchy, and Cal finds himself tapping a single sharp nail against that glass in sync with the rhythm. One hand curls its sharp fingers around the glass he’d been offered while its twin occasionally plucks the cigar from his teeth so he can exhale the smoke and tap its ashes off into a nearby tray.

He has to try and meet this alternate once he’s off the stage.

[deans-baby-momma]

The Story of Us-Epilogue

A/N: This is a rewrite of a story my good friend @spnbaby-67 allowed me to take and rewrite. All mistakes are mine. This is canon divergent, meaning some things that happened in the show will still happen here but with my own twist to it.

Summary: She and Dean met when they were kids. Even at such a young age, she knew that he was her soulmate. Being the daughter of a hunter, Michaela (Micki) Singer knew the life he led came with a price, but she was up to the challenge.

Pairings: Dean Winchester/reader, Sam Winchester/friend!reader, John Winchester, Mary Winchester (mentioned only), Bobby Singer

Warnings: Flashbacks are in italics, fluffy stuff, angst stuff, character death, kidnapping, depression, semi-dark themes

A/N2: Here it is. The end, the final chapter of The Story of Us, the life of Dean and Micki. PLEASE DON’T KILL ME. 

Lebanon, Kansas (17 years later, 2025)

Micki hugs her children closer as she watches Sam step toward the wooden pyre and flick the lighter to life. On top of the lumber lies the body of her soulmate, her one true love, her partner and best friend. Dean died while fighting a gang of vampires when he and Sam had traveled to Ohio for a fucking pie festival. 

The man’s love of pie killed him!

Tears stream down her face as she hears Maren weeping into her bosom while her son, Dean Jr stands stoically and still beside her. DJ has taken the death of his father hard. Dean was a champion in the boy’s eye and he thought his dad could do no wrong. DJ hasn’t said a word or shown any emotion since his uncle Sam pulled into the garage of the Bunker in the driver’s seat of the beloved Impala. 

Now here they are about to burn the boy’s hero and she doesn’t know how it is going to affect him. Her heart is breaking not only for herself but for her kids and her brother-in-law. Even Miracle, the dog that they saved when the world was once again ending is sitting on the ground beside them, whimpering in mourning.

As Sam places the Zippo to the shroud surrounding Dean’s body, the flames catch quickly and in no time at all, they cover the whole pyre. The blaze lights up the evening sky as embers float up to the heavens and disappear. 

The four of them stand and watch until the very last spark is extinguished. Dean Winchester is gone; his body is ashes. There’s no coming back this time. 

Life after Dean was going to be listless and lacking. The four left were going to have to learn how to go on without him. 

That night, after everyone was in bed, Micki sat at the war room table, a glass full of Dean’s favorite whiskey in her hand. She thought back on all they’d been through and how they had overcome some colossal obstacles but they had always beat the odds and come out on top. 

Now, Dean was gone and she would have to survive on her own.

As she took another sip of the bitter liquid, she smiled as she remembered one of the best days of her life.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota (2009) 

The driveway to Singer Salvage was lined with cars of all makes and models, some older and some newer. The lawn outside her childhood home was bustling with people-hunters- that had been invited to her and Dean’s wedding. 

Dean and Sam had spent the last few weeks building an archway for them to stand under as they said their vows and became husband and wife. 

Micki peeked out the window of her room and took a breath. There were a lot more people than she was expecting but she guessed that hunters would use any occasion to halt hunting monsters and party. 

A knock sounded behind her and she turned to see her dad open the door and peer around. 

“It’s almost time,” he says, with pride and glee in his voice. “Are you ready?”

“More than ready, Daddy.”

Bobby steps on into the room and shuts the door. “Can I just say….Micheala Quinn, you are stunning. You are going to knock that boy’s socks off, he won’t know what hit him.”

“Thanks dad,” Micki replies with a blush, “How’s Maren?”

“She’s fine. She’s entertaining the guests. Everyone has fallen in love with her.”

Micki smiles at that. She knew her daughter would be the star of the show….well, until the actual ceremony.

“How’s Dean?” she asks.

“Sweating bullets,” Bobby jokes but then when Micki looks at him worriedly, he changes tune. “He’s nervous. Says he’s going to forget what he’s supposed to say and do. Sam is talking to him, calming him down.”

“Figures,” Micki says with a smile. 

As they hear the beginning notes of the wedding march begin, Micki picks her bouquet off the bed and straightens her shoulders.

“Let’s go get me married,” she says and Bobby offers her his arm.

The ceremony went on without any problems. A few moments after walking out of her childhood home on her father’s arm, Michaela Quinn Singer became Mrs. Dean Henry Winchester, complete with a kiss that had all the hunters whooping and cheering. 

Present time (2025)

Micki finishes off her drink as she smiles at the memory. She and Dean had had a beautiful life together, raising Maren and welcoming Dean Jr into the mix. She stood beside him through thick and then, just as her vows had promised and now she was left to go on without him. 

She reaches forward and runs her fingertip over the carved initials in the wooden tabletop. D.W. 

“I love you always and forever babe,” she says before kissing her fingers and tapping the initials once more.

THE END

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​  @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @akshi8278​ @lyarr24​ @maggiegirl17​ @chriszgirl92​

[tiredofthatsameoltweak]

How do you let go of someone that you planned forever with..... Again?

How to you turn your back and walk away from a person you can't imagine your life without?

How do you unlove a soul that you literally lived for when you couldn't find the strength to live for yourself?

How do I KNOW now that it's all over, that it's all a waste of time? Because I can see it and feel it, I can hear it and even taste it.

I see it because your eyes no longer light up when you see, you roll your eyes (and not in a good way) when I try to joke with you, your smile towards me no longer reaches your eyes, you appear to be in agony or at best pained when you spend anytime with me. I see it when you would rather look at your phone than at me, when you put as much distance between us as possible without being obvious.

I can hear it on the way you say my name, there's nothing special about it anymore just another obligatory word in your sentence, when you see love ya too whenever I say I love you, or when you say see ya workout looking up from whatever you're doing. They hold no weight anymore just a knee jerk response to a person speaking. I can hear it on the silence from you when I'm begging for a response, for you to tell me I'm wrong when I tell you I feel it ending. I hear or the loudest in the silence that now feels the space between us where once there was laughter, conversation, and inside jokes.

I feel it when I hug you and I loosely get a one arm drap above my shoulders as you turn your head away from me, when I reach for your hand to hold and it's no longer there, when I put your arm over me in the middle of the night and you don't squeeze me or pull me closer instead you just roll over. I feel it in my gut when I hear your phone go off and when I ask you say it wasn't you, I feel it the most when I look at you and realize that you don't see me the same and you don't want to.

But the worst of these is the taste of longing on my lips for yours, of the biter comments that you spew so easily, of the dryness of any conversation that we have, but mostly in the tears that I'm not often left to cry alone behind closed doors and in quiet cars in the dark, because crying in front of you feels so wrong now you can't see me in that vulnerable state you wouldn't protect me, you'd attack harder and tell me I'm manipulating the situation or that I'm overreacting and you'd leave.

No longer do I feel safe confiding in you because it's just giving you ammo for later. No longer to I feel heard or seen or loved or wanted. There's no appreciation only entitlement and disapproval. There's nothing I do that you get excited about or that you look forward to. No plans for the future, but plans to leave under different circumstances. The taste of betrayal when I realize that my feelings and wants and needs don't matter once I'm out of sight. The taste of heartbreak realizing that I no longer matter to you as I once had.

I've given you more than enough time, too many chances. I've laid out the bare minimum that I need and I've compromised those just like the originals to bend and cater to you, but the time has come that if I were to bend anymore I'd break and I can't afford to break again. Especially knowing that there will be no one there to help me pick up the pieces or to put them back together. When I know that there is no longer a fire or even a spark left because you've been smothering the ashes of what was once the most beautiful I ever stood within. I've fought to hold on the whole time knowing in my heart that you were extinguishing any hope that appears, in some of the most damaging ways possible. But I held onto the hope that you were having a hard time and that I could love you through it, and that ñ when you saw how much I loved you and all that I'd do for you maybe you'd understand and it would get better, but it's only getting worse. I have no desire to even entertain the idea that maybe some day you'll snap back and be the man I fell in love with. You've the good in you is fading and you don't care in fact I think you're happy about it mm someti and that's nothing I could say, or do that can change the outcome because say the end of the day....

It all comes down to a choice that you made, and sadly it wasn't me. But know that I love you still, and I would have chosen you a hundred times and a hundred ways. I would have sacrificed everything for you, but knowing that you don't feel the same I gave to choose myself this time over you because if I don't choose me that isn't anyone else that's going to anymore.

[gobboguy]

Chapter 13: The Meeting of Royalty

In one of the countless towers that adorned Farfield castle, Prince Rode reclined lazily, an image of haunting beauty and effeminate grace. His features were delicate, his eyes a mesmerizing shade of sapphire that seemed to pierce through the soul of anyone who dared to meet his gaze. His figure was that of a youth in the peak of physical condition, his lithe form exuding an air of ethereal allure. His long, ebony hair cascaded down his back like a silken waterfall, framing his porcelain face in a way that only enhanced his enigmatic charm.

Boredom clouded his eyes as he looked down grumpily at the bustling city of Farfield below. The room around him was adorned with opulent tapestries and sumptuous furnishings, yet none could captivate his attention. Near his feet lay the dead remains of a rat, its life extinguished by his capricious cruelty, but now he found even that source of entertainment lacking.

His father, the King, had ordered his cousins to stay at the castle, a decision that intrigued him. Anything, he thought, was better than the unending tedium that had plagued his days lately. As he contemplated mischief, the notion of urinating out the window for sheer amusement crossed his mind. A wicked grin tugged at his lips, but before he could indulge in the idea, a subtle sound of footsteps on the stone floor alerted him to an approaching presence.

With practiced grace, he turned to face the newcomer, and a smile curved his lips. "Maeggar, my dear friend," he greeted, his voice silky and smooth as he acknowledged the court wizard's arrival.

Maeggar, his features etched with mystery, met Rode's gaze with an enigmatic smile of his own. "Your cousins have arrived, Prince Rode," he said, his tone carrying a hint of intrigue. "It seems your days of boredom may be coming to an end."

The grand court room of Farfield castle was a sight to behold, adorned with elaborate tapestries depicting the kingdom's glorious history and polished marble pillars that stretched to the high vaulted ceiling. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, mingling with the fragrance of fresh flowers scattered across the room. At the center of this grandeur, King Rode sat upon his ornate throne, his features weathered with age, his graying hair cascading in waves around his shoulders. Beside him, Queen Alys was a stark contrast, her face gaunt and powdered, lips painted in a cruel shade of red, her dress adorned with the embroidered emblem of Miranda, the High Justice.

Prince Rode stood next to his mother, his princely robes elegantly draped, his demeanor exuding an air of regal confidence. His eyes, sharp and sapphire, surveyed the room with a mixture of boredom and amusement, his hands resting casually on his hips.

As Lady Seraphina, Lady Rhona, Ionia, and Roderick approached the throne, Prince Rode couldn't resist an opportunity to lighten the mood. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned slightly towards the approaching party and quipped, "Why should a prince never wait? Because time bends to royalty, and even seconds must bow to our impatience!" His attempt at humor elicited a strained chuckle from a few courtiers, but the king and queen remained stone-faced, their expressions unmoved by the jest. The courtiers, sensing the tension in the air, exchanged uneasy glances, the atmosphere growing even more strained as they awaited the monarchs' response.

The royal announcers called the court to attention, their voices resonating through the hall. As the heavy doors swung open, Lady Seraphina and Lady Rhona entered, each accompanied by a young heir to the Farfield lineage. Ionia, standing tall and determined, walked by Seraphina's side, her eyes glinting with a spark of defiance. On the other side, Roderick, the younger of the two heirs, seemed less certain, his gaze flickering nervously around the grandeur of the court room.

The court fell into hushed anticipation as the two families approached the throne, the air heavy with the weight of impending decisions and the unspoken tensions that lay beneath the surface of their noble façades.

Ionia, a vision of noble grace, stood tall with her long, flowing blonde hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of sunlight. Her striking blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and determination, set in a delicate, porcelain face. She wore an ornate noble dress, the bodice adorned with intricate embroidery and gemstones that glittered like stars in the night sky. The dress trailed behind her in regal elegance, sweeping the floor with each graceful step.

Beside her, Roderick, a younger lad with short blonde hair and eyes as blue as the summer sky, donned robes stitched with the emblem of Holbore, his homeland. His attire, while not as ornate as Ionia's, exuded an air of quiet dignity and sophistication.

As the families approached the dais where the throne sat, Lady Rhona and Roderick bowed deeply, their gestures steeped in respect. "Your Majesties," Lady Rhona began with a voice that resonated with authority, "we are honored to be in your presence. May the blessings of Holbore grace your kingdom."

Seraphina and Ionia followed suit, their movements reflecting the stiffness and regality expected at court. "Your Majesties," Seraphina intoned, her voice measured and composed, "we humbly present Lady Ionia, heir of Berton, here to fulfill her duties to the kingdom."

King Rode acknowledged them with a nod, his expression stern yet assessing. "Lady Rhona, Roderick," he said in a tone laced with authority, "we welcome you to Farfield. Your presence is appreciated."

Queen Alys, her voice quaking slightly but imbued with a severe regality, offered a blessing from Miranda. "May the High Justice guide your steps and bless your endeavors in our kingdom," she said, her words carrying the weight of a divine mandate.

Prince Rode, standing stiffly, greeted his cousins with a formal nod. "Lady Rhona, Roderick," he said with a trace of formality, "I trust your journey was uneventful. Welcome to the heart of Farfield." His greeting, though polite, held a certain distance, the boundaries of courtly decorum clearly delineated.

Ionia, a vision of noble grace, stood tall with her long, flowing blonde hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of sunlight. Her striking blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and determination, set in a delicate, porcelain face. She wore an ornate noble dress, the bodice adorned with intricate embroidery and gemstones that glittered like stars in the night sky. The dress trailed behind her in regal elegance, sweeping the floor with each graceful step.

Beside her, Roderick, a younger lad with short blonde hair and eyes as blue as the summer sky, donned robes stitched with the emblem of Holbore, his homeland. His attire, while not as ornate as Ionia's, exuded an air of quiet dignity and sophistication.

As the families approached the dais where the throne sat, Lady Rhona and Roderick bowed deeply, their gestures steeped in respect. "Your Majesties," Lady Rhona began with a voice that resonated with authority, "we are honored to be in your presence. May the blessings of Holbore grace your kingdom."

Seraphina and Ionia followed suit, their movements reflecting the stiffness and regality expected at court. "Your Majesties," Seraphina intoned, her voice measured and composed, "we humbly present Lady Ionia, heir of Berton, here to fulfill her duties to the kingdom."

King Rode acknowledged them with a nod, his expression stern yet assessing. "Lady Rhona, Roderick," he said in a tone laced with authority, "we welcome you to Farfield. Your presence is appreciated."

In the shadowed recesses of the grand court room, Maeggar concealed himself, his eyes fixed intently on Lady Seraphina as she conducted herself with regal grace. The memories of their shared past echoed in the chambers of his mind like ghosts from a time long gone. They had grown up within the palace walls, he as a young apprentice to the previous court mage, and she, a noble lady of Farfield. In those early days, he had dazzled her with novice spells, their laughter echoing through the corridors as they practiced the innocent art of young love, even stealing moments to practice the gentle art of kissing.

Yet, the cruel dance of court politics and the rigid boundaries of class relations had severed the fragile connection between them. As Maeggar lurked in the shadows, hidden desires gnawed at the edges of his conscience. The grim reality reminded him of the dark path he had chosen, a path that could, perhaps, make Seraphina his own, but one fraught with perilous consequences and forbidden magic.

His gaze lingered on Lady Seraphina, a woman he had once shared fleeting moments of joy and innocence with, and in the depths of the courtly shadows, a sinister resolve set in. The twisted dance of fate had begun, and Maeggar, entangled in his own ambitions, would stop at nothing to shape the destiny he desired.

[stormcallgaming]

【TS4 Scenario】 Stuck in their Shadow Intro

TABLE OF CONTENTS: Intro (you are here) * Part 1 *

NOTE: This is my first scenario that I’ve ever made it this far through and I’m a bit upset with myself that I didn’t create more conflict for story’s sake, but I wasn’t sure if the scenario itself would create it. Spoiler: it didn’t lol Scenarios are cool, but they definitely leave much to be desired. Without further ado, let’s get into this! Here is the introduction 🙂

This story begins with a young woman named Nova Curious. After the death of her father, she was struggling to enjoy the world around her. He was her light and, without him, everything just seemed so bleak to her. She lost her passion for programming and almost dropped out of university because of this.

Then he appeared.

Lewis Sancho, her childhood frenemy.

The pair of them grew up together but it was hardly a smooth friendship. Both of them were competitive, always trying to outdo one another in everything they did. Unfortunately for her, Nova usually ended up as second best. Lewis was always one step ahead of her, gaining the praise and adoration of those around him. No matter how hard she tried, she just wasn’t good enough.

She was grateful when he moved away at the end of middle school and, though she didn’t miss his presence, she did come to realize that he forced her to be her best self. This revelation came to her during her struggles at the start of university. She was about to give up, to drop out and fall deeper into her grief over her father.

Then he appeared again.

More arrogant than ever, Lewis Sancho appeared at Foxbury Institute, ready to cast his shadow over her once more. When she first saw him, she didn’t care at all. He was her past and she was too focused on her present filled with grief and loneliness without her father. Lewis had no intention of letting her be, though. He teased her, mocked her, and even had the nerve to say he was disappointed in her. Despite her grief, this enraged her.

All those feelings of being not good enough came rushing back to her, overwhelming her grief. Whether she is willing to admit it or not, Lewis gave her a new lease on life. Nova was determined to finally break free of his shadow and prove that she was just as good, if not better, than he was.

Despite the constant bullying she received from him, she turned her life around, graduating with straight A’s. She was at the top of her class, but she wasn’t the only one. Unfortunately for her, Lewis was placed first in the class and, like always, she was second. He didn’t miss the opportunity to mock her over his.

Even though she was placed second, she was given a great opportunity. The CEO of Rainy Day Entertainment was impressed by her talent so he offered her a job in Copperdale.

A new job. A new town. A new start.

Nova was sad to leave behind the town she had grown up in with her father, but she knew that the only thing left for her there was grief and if she stayed, she would spiral again. So she accepted and thus began her new life in Copperdale, in a small house in Plumbite Cove.

She feels uncertain about her future but, for the first time in a long time, she has hope. There was once a fire that raged within her but the death of her father extinguished it. Now, that fire is starting up again. It’s just a spark right now and we’ll see if it returns to the glorious flame it once was or if it was be extinguished for good.

[quetzalpapalotl]

I really am having fun with this and can't stop wont's stop. More of anime girl take on SG Optimus from @lord-squiggletits 's Pay Unto Evil. This time his final confrontation with IDW Megatron as requested by @red--thedragon

Scene under the cut

He was the source of all of this.

The moment Megatron saw the false Optimus Prime again, he shot towards him like a cannon blast, the path forward carved with the assistance of living and Shell Decepticons alike. "You!"

The Prime pivoted towards him. His energon axe painted the fumes around him with a sickly halo. "You."

Every moment that Megatron occupied the Prime was another moment where no more Decepticons could be mind-controlled. Megatron fought with a viciousness that his old battle-joy had never come close to reaching. Prime sent him reeling with a kick, and Megatron rolled to dodge the countering axe swipe. Air whooshed out of his vents automatically, and when he cycled them back closed, he found that the air around him was just as hot as inside.

Prime circled, smokestacks puffing, red optics flaring at him with annoyance and anger. Megatron had to take every chance for distraction he could.

"Enjoy this," Megatron taunted. "At least I'm allowing your last moments to be spent entertained by battle."

"You are... boring!" Prime leapt forward again, and they exchanged several furious blows before disengaging. "Again with the same tricks. I thought you at least had some creativity, but all you are is the same as he was!"

"What happened to all the sweet nothings, Prime? I thought you said you would never grow tired of me?" Megatron charged a fusion blast.

"For as long as you fought me, yes." He withdrew his blaster and fired several shots at Megatron that he had to block with his cannon, at last forced to let the charge die away before the entire thing jammed from heat. Then he advanced and locked weapons with Megatron again. "But you don't get to run away from your end, Megatron. Not again."

"It will be your end, not mine!" He deflected Prime's axe, and they fought more. The smoke whirled around in a frenzy with their movements.

Still waiting. The eruption. Have to keep distracting him.

A sudden stabbing pain in his spark had Megatron groan and shove the Prime away. He purged smoke from his vents again, unnecessarily, in an effort to hide his sudden flinch, but it was useless.

For the first time in their battle, the dark Prime's optics softened with his usual condescending amusement. "See?" he said. "You're broken. I admit you did a good job hiding it for so long, but look at you. All of that rage and desperation, yet one day your ember will extinguish all the same."

Megatron brought a hand over his spark, touching the insignia of Soundwave's likeness. "You're pathetic."

A brow ridge quirked. "Oh?"

"Has anything in your life ever been more than a passing amusement, or is your hardware so limited that you're incapable of permanent emotion?" Megatron straightened, ignoring the invisible claws extending from his spark to the rest of his body. "All your eloquent words and grand gestures ultimately mean nothing. You're just a hollow shell pretending to have reasons to keep living. Why not let me kill you and put you out of your misery? Clearly there's nothing inside of you worth preserving."

The Prime didn't move, and Megatron gladly took the opportunity for stillness as a chance to grasp for a single degree of cooler temperature in his body. He hated the way those optics just looked at him like he didn't even consider Megatron's words worth responding to.

My Optimus would never cast me aside like this, Megatron thought, but didn't grace the false Prime with speaking.

Finally, the dark mech answered with a cool, completely indifferent remark. "You know, I didn't intend to do that to your ember. The wires were just a bit of spontaneous fun, nothing engineered specifically against you."

"So high and mighty, yet you don't even have the common sense not to break your toys," Megatron said sardonically.

"Truly unfortunate. But, it was fun while it lasted. I'm going to have a miserable time finding another person as exciting as the old you. Take solace in that, if you wish so strongly for my favor." He inclined his helm slightly towards the empty portal archway behind him. "Perhaps in another universe, do you think?"

"Never!" Megatron leaped forward and attacked once more.

[...]

Why hasn't it erupted yet?!

The volcano should have exploded by now. The pain in Megatron's spark was growing more excruciating by the minute, and in the corners of his vision, he could see his Decepticons being pressed into a tighter and tighter knot around the portal. If someone got to the console and deactivated it, they would lose everything. Everything.

And he was quickly becoming little more than a distraction for Optimus Prime.

Megatron just couldn't move as quickly as before. This level of spark pain usually had him curled up on the floor, unable to do anything but wait for release, yet he was still on his feet. His plating and his insides stung from the smoke-- including a fading cloud of the red gas the Autobots had grown fond of. Everything hurt. Megatron didn't care about pain, but he was soon reaching the point where not even mind over mettle could save him.

The Prime dodged a stiff blow from Megatron, then grabbed his fusion cannon and ripped it straight out of the contact points, tearing thick curls of metal off his forearm. Megatron narrowly dodged as the Prime tried to club him over the helm with it.

It should have happened now! Megatron screamed an animal scream at the Prime, coming in for another desperate attack. The faces of hundreds, thousands of fallen soldiers flashed in Megatron's mind. We did everything right! It won't end like this! It can't!

Megatron realized that none of the mechs encircling him and the Prime bore his brand. Then Prime swung his axe upwards, and Megatron’s leaden pedes couldn’t jump back in time before the hot blade passed right through his face, cutting across and blinding him with the sizzle of energon and electricity.

Then, all of his sensors malfunctioned at once under the earth-shattering pain in his spark. Every scrap of his body hurt, all the way to the tips of his fingers and pedes. He couldn't even feel himself moving any more. He was a body alone in a void of pain.

When he woke up, his arms and legs were stretched spread-eagle and pinned down by heavy weights. Some of them felt like hands, but he felt keenly the burn of a heated blade through one of his forearms. Wraithlike figures encircled the edges of Megatron's vision, but all he could look at was the brilliant, piercing light of the Matrix scouring away the fog above him.

"You tried," Optimus Prime whispered to him, and Megatron shouldn't have been able to hear him over the noise of the battle, but he could hear that disgusting, silky voice inside of his mind. "But I'm afraid it's over now. Submit to me."

"NO!" Megatron howled. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. He could feel invisible fingers stirring through his mind, sending up emotions and thoughts in incoherent swirls.

"You're so tired. You want this to be over. Let it be over, Megatron. Just give up your control and hand it to me. You’ll feel so much lighter...so much more free..."

His spark hurt.

His spark. Salvation, next to his spark.

The inhibitor chip.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  5.2

Author’s Note:  I saw this on pinterest and thought it applied to Xiao XD  P.S.  Do you readers like that the story is in 2nd POV, or should I change it to 3rd person?  My thinking is this POV allows me to get away without mentioning appearances or a chosen name so ya’ll could be put in OC’s shoes?

..............................

Is it just me, or is he looking my way?  You caught Childe in the act while you and your team retreated into the opposite tree line after Aether had taken the dragon tooth.  Something didn't feel right.  The trees seemed to close in on you like tunnel vision.  Was he planning on attacking you with the skirmishers at his side? Was he going to show his true colors now?  Is it time to face death?

He dismissed the soldiers and retreated from the direction you had all spotted the skirmishers in the first place.  He made a point to cast a meaningful glance your way.

I can't let it happen now, you looked to each of your teammates as you all ran through the snowy woods.  If he brought all of those Fatui agents on board with taking you out, the entire group would be overwhelmed.  The sheer cold puts us at a disadvantage.  Bennett could get hurt.  Xiao can't fight with his full strength.  When was the last time Aether and Childe sparred?  I can't rely on those results to protect me either.  

No one was paying attention; you could slip away and try to strike a deal with the Harbinger.  Bargain for Xiao's freedom and safety. You were hypersensitive to the weight of your coat on your shoulders, and the crunching of snow beneath your boots.  He can't hurt us now...not now!

You peeled away from the group and they continued to run towards a cave several hundred yards from their current position.  No one had heard you.  When you finally reached the first firepit, you found Childe waiting next to it.

"Oh there you are, ojou-chan!  Did you get the tooth? Where are the others?  They didn't run into trouble, did they?"  He greeted you with his signature friendly stature.

"Drop the act, Childe." You came to a halt maybe ten feet from him, with your back to the firepit.  It warmed your body significantly and you could finally feel your fingers and toes again.  He was on the far end of the open area.

"Whatever do you mean, ojou-chan?"  The mask didn't crack.

"We're alone now.  Is that what you wanted?"

Childe stared at you for a moment before breaking out into a loud fit of laughter.  "Oh ojou-chan, you know me so well〰"  He took a couple steps toward you.  "You should know I've been meaning to talk to you."

"That's close enough."  He stopped.  "I know what you're after."

"Oh?"  A dangerous glint sparked in his eyes, one that you've never seen before.  "Enlighten me then."

"I don't want Xiao dragged into whatever mess you brought upon us.  Whatever your plan entails, it ends with me."

"A noble sacrifice for a man that will not love you," he smirked.  "Why do you try to protect him when he can clearly fight for himself?"

"He's been through enough already," your hands closed into fists as you recalled his horrific past.  "I'll go with you, but only if you give me your word you won't take him too."

"Ha!  I feel no need to fight you, ojou-chan."  The sincerity in his voice attracted your gaze back to him.  "I don't wish to hurt you."

"Huh..?"  That's out of character.  Is this some sort of trap?

"I...have other goals in mind.  They require your cooperation, of course.  And your cutting of ties with the adeptus."

"Cutting ties?  Why would I do that?"  Your brows furrowed.

"My loyalty lies with the Tsaritsa, but I have a special interest with this mission after meeting you, ojou-chan," he made his way closer, and you stood in total confusion.  "I will personally see to it that you will not get harmed at all in Snezhnaya.  It all depends on your answer."

"You...I don't get what you mean.  What answer?  What exactly are you asking of me?"  Whatever it was, you sure as hell weren't going to agree with it.  But as soon as the questions left your lips, you knew.

He does like you.

Childe took note of the realization--and the fear--on your face and continued. "Surrender is a valid option, I promise I'll be gentle.  This is a simple route that avoids all the fighting and pain.  All you need to do is allow me to love you, and I won't harm your friends.  You have my word."

"L-love me?"  The words left a terrible taste in your mouth.  "I...I could never!  I could never love you, either!  You killed my Granny...you stole her house from her frail hands.  You...You!" Your sword made a metallic sound as it was unsheathed.

Childe inhaled and manifested his bow.  He nocked an arrow onto his finger and drew the string to his cheek.  "A most expected answer, ojou-chan.  Thank you for strengthening my resolve.  This will be much more enjoyable now."  Whatever turmoil that shone in his eyes was long gone  and replaced with pure malice.  "Let's make this a fair fight."  The arrow shot into the fire and extinguished it.

"Tch." You ran toward him as fast as you could in the snow, and crossed sword with lance.

"Not bad," your opponent grinned with satisfaction.  "Where'd you learn this technique from?"  You somehow managed to keep up with his unrelenting blows thanks to the muscle memory that belonged to Xiao.  "I don't recall the adeptus ever training you."

"Ngh!"  He landed a kick to your stomach and you fell into the snow.  Childe let you get back up, completely high on the thrill of fighting you and more than intent on dragging it out so he could watch your fighting spirit diminish.  I may be keeping up with him, but I can't land a solid blow like this.  You slowly removed your two remaining jackets and tossed them into the snow next to the extinguished firepit.  If I can somehow finish the fight quickly...You knew it was a hopeless battle.  A fight between a non-vision wielder and a harbinger that wields both vision and delusion? Complete and utter self-annihilation will ensue.

"I admire your tenacity, comrade," he watched the jackets fall.  "But now that I have my answer, there's no reason to wait any longer."  He shoved his lance towards you when your guard was down.

"I won't let you hurt him!"   You swung your blade to parry, and a sudden blast of material sent the two of you flying backwards into the snow.  Your vision was suddenly looking into the tree canopy.  "Ugh, wha--?"  You sat up to find ice shards scattered across the snow.  Something cool and metallic sat in your free hand.  You opened your palm to reveal what you least expected.

A vision.

You stared at your hand with bewilderment while Childe rose to his feet with a mixture of shock, admiration, and annoyance.  "I see.  An unexpected development," he remarked with cold eyes.  "It's a shame you won't have the chance to wield it properly against me.  He drew his bow and aimed for your chest.  Another block of ice manifested before the arrow could pierce you.

You placed the artifact into your jean pocket, and you rose to your feet with a newfound confidence.  Maybe you could beat him here and now.  Images of Xiao's fights involuntarily crossed your mind, and a lance of ice materialized in your hand.  You held it so that the tip pointed directly at Childe.

Another clashing of blades, this time converting Childe's into an ice sculpture.  But not before you had managed to freeze his leg into the snow for a hot second.  You ducked at his swings, parried his attacks, and followed through with a sequence of your own--or rather Xiao's--attacks.  It looked like you were gaining the upper hand until Childe caught your blade in his gloved palm.

"Thank you for the entertainment, ojou-chan," he growled.  "But this is where it ends for you."  Did you really think he hadn't studied your newfound techniques during your previous fighting session?  So naïve of you, ojou-chan.  You can't use the same tricks twice.

You retracted your weapon and lay waste another blow.  He easily parried it.  You engaged in a combo before swiping your feet at his legs; he leapt away before you could knock him down.  You were frustrated now, your movements becoming sloppier with each passing movement.

There's the real you, he mused.  His frozen blade dug into your dominant shoulder with such force that he had you pinned to a tree.  He felt nothing but sadistic pleasure course through his veins at the sight of you squirming in pain.

"Gah!" A shriek escaped your lips and your lance dropped from your hand.  You tried to claw the spear out of your body as he stalked ever closer to you.

"I don't even need Foul Legacy to kill you. You could never defeat me, not even in your wildest dreams," Childe stalked towards you as he twirled a new hydro polearm behind his body, stopping once its blade pressed against your neck.  He could kill you in an instant, and he would if he wasn't required to bring you alive.

You were seething with anger and hatred. It was stupid of you to go after him on your own, to seek a peaceful resolution to this conflict when you knew all along that there wouldn't be one. It didn't matter now. Your anger subsided, shoulders releasing themselves from the tension in your muscles once you thought of an idea. Even the pain in your dominant shoulder seemed to subside a bit.  Your sudden change in demeanor made Childe's grip loosen for a moment as he questioned the newfound peace emanating from you.

Your eyes closed and your lips curled into a smile. Adeptus Xiao, you called to him in your heart.Please hear me and answer my prayer for protection.

A sudden gust of wind blew against your back, and Childe faltered. He looked to you for an explanation, and you met his gaze through his mask. "I know, but he can."

Xiao burst into Childe at an incredible speed, knocking him square into another tree. The trunk splintered in half from the force.  He conjured his polearm and held its blade at Childe's throat. "Why the sudden politeness in your prayers?" He called out over his shoulder without taking his eye off the Harbinger.  I'm cursed with hearing her rambling whenever I'm gone, and only now she speaks politely to an illuminated adeptus?  Despite that thought, he actually loved hearing your voice reach his ears.

"I-I don't know.." WAIT, he COULD hear me all this time?!  Blush further tinted your pink cheeks that were red from the sheer cold.

"Tsk," Childe spit blood onto the snow and glared at the yaksha.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't decapitate you here."

Childe wasn't going to give him a reason and debated on conjuring his polearm instead.  Here he was, about to die at the hands of the damned yaksha, and all because he had decided to give you a chance to 'escape' a portion of the hardship that awaited you.  Signora would lose what respect she had for him if she ever found out.  Oh well.

"Ngh," you writhed against the tree.  Your feet were just inches from solid ground, making this injury all the more painful as you hung from the lance.  You couldn't move your dominant arm anymore.  Xiao let go of Childe's collar and moved to your aid.  He slipped your other arm over his shoulder so he could relieve the pressure off of your injury, then yanked the spear out without warning.  Your shout of pain scared the nearby foxes away.

Xiao gave the Harbinger one last glare before he lifted you in his arms and took off at an incredible speed.  It was only a matter of seconds before the two of you caught up with the rest of the group, who were waiting just inside a small cave that held mysterious lab equipment.

"Be careful,"  the yaksha set you on your feet but refused to remove your arm from around him.

"There you are!  W-where'd Childe go?"  Bennett paled when he saw your injury.  "Here, let me see that."  Aether, Paimon, and Xiao exchanged knowing looks while Bennett examined your shoulder.  "You should sit down.  This isn't anything I can't fix!"

"What happened? Did Childe...?" Aether trailed off once he returned with a bowl of water from a boiling pot.  

"Mn," you winced when Bennett peeled your shirt off of your bloody skin.  "I thought he was conspiring with those agents when we were making a run for it, so I followed him."

"A foolish decision," Xiao grumbled.  He took the water from Aether and held it to your lips.

"Were you at least able to find anything else out about his plans? Or Signora?"  Paimon spoke up.  "It's not worth getting hurt over if you just throw yourself in harm's way like that."

"I thought he was going to..." your eyes flicked to Xiao's for a split second before they fell to the ground.  '--Hurt you,' you wanted to say.  But the yaksha would not hear of it if you said something so foolishly naïve.  You were just a measly human after all, with little knowledge of fighting and a large heart that wanted to protect those around her.  A big heart could only go so far; it proved useless in your battle today.  Or did it?  You nearly jumped up when you remembered, "I have something! I got something from this!"  Your loud yelp scared the daylights out of Bennett, and he nearly yanked the stitch out that he had just put into your skin.  You dug into your pocket and pulled out the artifact.

"Is that--?!"  Paimon and Aether sprung to their feet simultaneously.

"A vision?"  Xiao's eyes widened slightly.  And a cryo one, at that.

"So cool!" Paimon spun around with excitement.  "You're officially one of us now! Er, not that you weren't to begin with--"

"Congrats,"  Aether nodded and flashed you a toothy grin.  

"Yeah, congrats!"  Bennett also flashed you a bright smile and observed the trinket in your palm.  "Wow, we're like, polar opposites!"

"Heh, yeah," you nodded with a faint smile.  Your eyes found Xiao's, which were locked onto your vision.  "Xiao?"

"You received a blessing from the very god that's hunting you.  Do you not find that odd?"  His lack of enthusiasm made your chest ache in disappointment.  

Was he not proud of such an accomplishment?

"Yeah now that you mention it," Paimon held her chin and thought.  "It is really weird.  Why would she make her target more powerful? Wouldn't that just make it more difficult for her to capture you?"

"Did Childe say anything about it?"  Aether prompted.

"No," you shook your head slightly and pursed your lips.  "He seemed as surprised as I was."

To be blessed with the cryo vision, one must commit an act that revolves around love, Xiao's brows furrowed.  Had she done something on the behalf of her grandmother, or is this all in the Cryo Archon's plan?  It never crossed his mind that you had gotten it on his behalf.

[f0xwrite]

@stricklakeetal

The first of the snippets from WIPs (as promised!) I haven't been able to write since my mom passed, so I'm not sure if or when I'll ever get any of these done, but I thought I'd share some unfinished ideas!

This one is still in a dialogue-heavy format. I’ve tried to fill in context in parenthesis. For context, in this story, most of the babies that were taken from the cradlestone are being cared for by goblins at the old Janus headquarters, all overseen by Walter, but some are housed at the Lake residence.

***

(Douxie is walking out of a record store, humming a soft tune, when his phone rings. He answers. )

“Mr. Casperian.” Strickler's gruff voice floated out from the receiver. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from Jim.”

“Uh, yeah, no it’s fine.” The wizard scratched the back of his head, raising a brow. “Who is this?”

“I’m Jim’s--an ally of the Trollhunter’s. Waltolomew Stricklander. ”

“Ah, yes, Merlin mentioned you a few times.”

“Good, then you’ll recall that I am in possession of all of the familiars—err, human children—who were formerly housed within the Darklands.”

“Oh that’s right! You’re the one with Dr. Lake. How’s that going for you?”

“Er—well, that’s the thing. It’s—we’ve run into a bit of a conundrum.”

“Conundrum?”

“It would be best if you saw it in person. Do you know where Jim lives?”

“Yeah I do, actually." He scratched the back of his neck as he spoke. “What’s going on again?”

“Waaalt, it’s not just those two.”Douxie heard another voice through the receiver.

“I have to go,” Walter’s voice was grave, “Erm, the faster you can get here, the better. We need a wizard.”

“Right then, you got it.”

(Later, at the Lake residence Douxie opens the door and his jaw drops. There are babies flying everywhere, and magic spells being cast to and fro, bouncing off of every wall. In the middle of it all, a haggard Walter and Barbara are trying to reign in the chaos. Douxie inquires about the Trollhunters, who could be there in a moments notice with Claire’s shadow magic.)

“Claire, Jim, and Toby are on vacation with the Nunez’s in the mountains.” Barbara explained.

“Young Atlas needs a break. They all do,” the changeling admonished. “I know Claire could be in and out quickly, but it would be best if we didn’t interrupt them. ”

“What on earth is going on with these babies?!” Barbara yelped as she barely dodged a ball of light being thrown her way. A crash sounded from the kitchen, and with a resigned huff, she strode off to discover its source.

“They’ve been exposed to Morgana’s magic for too long,” Douxie explained. “Creatures like that, like changelings,” he gestured towards Walter, “are naturally more inclined towards magic.”

“How do we keep them under control?” Walter’s voice was desperate. “This house, and the entire Janus base will be destroyed!”

“I don’t know!” Douxie exclaimed, “I’m not used to dealing with magic users this young. I’ve never even seen it. They have no idea what they are doing.”

“You were Merlin’s protege,” Walter growled as he tried to grab two babies that had landed on his horns. “Figure it out!”

“Waaaahh!” NotEnrique screamed from another room.

“Fire! Fire! Baby on fire!” Barbara came running down the hallway towards Walter, who grabbed the child before the flames could spread up the little one’s arms to burn her.

The baby itself giggled as the flames danced around Walter’s clawed and heat-resistant fingertips, seemingly unharmed. He sighed as the charred diaper fell away.

“This is madness!” Douxie held out his arm, and in a flash of blue, put out the flame. Grimacing, he pulled his phone from his pocket, running through his list of contacts. “We need back-up!”

Diaper-less, a stream of yellow came bounding out from between the baby’s legs, promptly splashing Walter’s face.

“Ugh,” he blinked and sputtered as he tried to clear the urine away, “and here I thought Battle of Marengo was hard.”

“Buh, buh, buh--” the baby tried to imitate him as he held it at arms length.

“Hello, Zoe, lovelet, I have an address I just texted to you, can you, uh--” Douxie held the phone to his face , trying to grab a different baby's leg as it floated by, "--do you mind popping by? There's a bit of a situation."

“What situation?” came her voice from the other end

The child escaped the Wizard’s grasp, babbling gleefully while wearing a tricorne.

“Waltolomew Jr, get over here this instant!” Barbara went chasing after the baby with outstretched arms.

“It’s a bit hard to explain…” Douxie’s voice trailed off as three other babies crawled after the doctor, sparks flying out from behind their knees like toy race cars.

“It’s mutiny, I tell ya!” NotEnrique came scurrying into the room, body covered in roots and flowers. “they’ve been savin’ it all for the big day! Oi, Jazz Hands, you mind givin’ me some help here?”

“I’m a little busy at the moment.” Douxie said as he fiddled with the gauntlet. “C’mon, c’mon...” he grumbled to the mechanism. “Ah! There.”

Geometric shapes of light appeared along the floor, bursting out and upward in a cacophony of blue. The babies who were airborne dropped to the ground, and Douxie watched as Walter lunched to catch two or three with his wings.

A thud upstairs indicated that another baby had dropped, followed by a piercing wail.

“Hold this,” Barbara said, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and Douxie found himself with a sudden armful of Walt Jr. as the doctor bounded up the staircase, NotEnrique went scurrying up behind her, shedding petals and brambles in his wake.

“Ah, hello mate,” Douxie quirked a brow as he looked down to the child in his arms, “so you’re the chip off the old rock here.”

(Douxie tries to cast a few spells with some success. For a few moments, the chaos stops and all of the floating babies come back to the floor. Strickler filters back into the room.)

He heard Walter snort, and then yelp as the first baby lit itself on fire again. The children nestled in his wing began to cry at the sudden flash of light.

“I thought you put a stop to this.” Walter growled as he held the baby away again.

“There are limits to my powers,” Douxie asserted, “I’ve got the airborne babies under control, but the other one’s will take longer. “

The changeling grabbed a crystal from a pouch along his loincloth and held it to the baby’s chest, cradling the child in his arms while the others remained in his wing. He muttered something that sounded low and quick, like snapping coals, and extinguished the baby once more. Not seconds later, a different baby with bows in it’s hair shot a beam of frost towards Walter’s head, covering his hair and horns in snow. Uttering, he tried to shake it away.

“They all have different abilities,” Douxie remarked in wonder as he stepped closer to the changeling. “We have fire, frost, earth--” the lights flickered above them, “--electricity,” he added, “and who knows what else? Heaven help us if one of them is in tune with Shadowmancy.”

“Shadow magic I can deal with, to a degree,” Walter’s golden eyes fell on the boy, “I am a creature of shadow, after all. It’s the others I can’t handle.”

Douxie laughed, something wry and time-worn passing across his gaze. “You’re not made of shadow magic, pal.”

“Come again?” his wings tensed.

“You may have been exposed to it in the Darklands, but the creation of life...that requires light.”

Walter stared at him for a long moment, gaze flickering in the dim.

“Shadow magic is what Gunmar was using to create his mindless drones, you’re not that.” Douxie went on. “I may not be as all-knowing as Merlin, but I know that much.”

“Forgive me for having a hard time believing you.” A baby was pulling in his tusks. Gently, he patted it back down. “But I have known nothing else.”

“You’ll see one day,” Douxie offered pale and knowing smile. “I don’t doubt it.”

It was then that Barbara came back onto the scene, hair completely unraveled and soaked, toweling her face.

“Oh dear,” Walter quirked a brow.

“She’s in the bathtub, living it up.” Barbara sneered. “Imagine a baby with a super-soaker.” Water still dripped from her arms. “NotEnrique’s entertaining her for now. I had to change twice.”

The sound of a motorcycle entering the driveway caught their collective attention, and Barbara gave Walter a curious look.

“That’ll be Zoe,” Douxie explained as he headed for the door. The moment he opened it, the power went out, and with the sun setting, the house became shrouded with darkness.

“Fuzzbuckets,” the wizard moaned through the burbles and gurgles and wails.

(Zoe walks up, fascinated to know what the heck could be going on. There’s some light banter, then Douxie introduces them to Walter and Barbara, who are surrounded by babies.)

“Remember the Trollhunter?” Douxie gestured to the couple. “Well, these are his parents.”

Walter tensed, “Er, well, I’m not actually Jim’s--” his words trailed off when Barbara put an arm on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, honey.”

Looking between the two of them, Zoe cocked a brow. “Well, there’s a story." It was well known that changelings couldn’t reproduced and equally known that they didn’t pursue relationships with...well, anyone.

“One we don’t have time to unpack, I’m afraid.” Walter said, curling a wing into a makeshift hammock before adding three or four babies to it.

.......

(And that’s all I had! Obviously there would have been a resolution, and I remember planning to have Steve show up at some point, but I hope you enjoyed the concept! Forgive any typos. Will post more int he next couple of days)

[pro-fangirls-unsocial-life]

Welcome Home.

A/N: So I accidentally wrote this fic in discord while talking with @captainrexisboo and thought I’d post it here as well!! I know that the timeline is off with Kix, but I don’t care. Its my fic and I get to decide what the rules are lmao. Anyways, this is what I think would happen if Kix and Rex met in the rebellion. I hope you enjoy! (Also wow. Two fics in two days look at me go after like a month of not posting anything)

Length: ~1800

Warnings. ANGST. Feeling hopeless. Self loathing. Very much a hurt/comfort thing.

It had been three months since Kix had been woken up. The Empire now raged across the galaxy and Kix’s newfound reality now raged throughout his mind, never giving him a moment of rest.

 After three months of being trapped in a tiny ship, the rebellion had decided that Kix was to be brought to the base on Yavin 4. For what, he had no idea, but now that he’s here, he thought it best not to dwell on what awaits him once he reaches his destination within the main building.

 Walking down the halls, he feels a sense of dread at having stares thrown his way by those who remember the clone wars. All of them are older now. All of them know what he did.

The rebel scavenger who found him keeps leading him deeper into the base until they stop in front of the door leading to General Syndulla's quarters. He had been told that this would be who he was being brought to.

 The door whooshes open to reveal Hera, a soft smile gracing her features. "Trooper?"

 "Yes general?"

 "Follow me.”

 Hera looks to the man who had been escorting Kix. "You are dismissed Private."

 With that, she turns, leading him through even more dimly lit hallways, not speaking a word but still keeping a smile on her features.

 They walk like that for a while, Kix having no idea as to where he is being taken. "Do they want to question me? Torture me for information? Make me go undercover for them in the Empire? What use could I be to them?"

 Finally, as they round a corner, his curiosity gets the better of him. "General?"

 Hera stops in front of a large door. "Yes?”

 "Forgive me, but… where are we going? What do you all want from me? I'm no use to anyone anymore."

 Hera smiles and gestures to the door, laying her hand on the panel to open it. She chuckles, placing her other hand on the shoulder of the man in front of her. "All of your questions will be answered Trooper. I promise. But there was someone who wanted to see you first." She presses a button and the door quickly opens, revealing a large room with a briefing table lit up in the center.

 Kix steps inside, looking around and seeing that it’s empty, all except for one person who hurriedly stands from the chair he was just occupying. He is worrying something in his hand but does not move toward Kix.

 "I'll leave you two to catch up," Hera says, closing the door as she turns away.

 Kix looks back at the man, now studying his features. He has deep brown eyes like Kix does and the same general face shape. He's older, bald and sporting a fluffy white beard that covers his face, almost mirroring the one that Kix had grown against his will after all these years. Only, as he looks closer, he can see that it just covers a small scar that runs over the man’s chin.

 Suddenly, his heart drops to his feet. No. This isn't possible. He was the only clone left who wasn't being used by the Empire. He was the only one left who truly knew what had happened. This can’t be real.

 "Rex?" His voice squeaks out in a barely audible whisper as tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

 This has to be a trick. He had already shed his tears, had already mourned all of the lives that he had failed to save. He had already come to terms with his new hopeless reality. This couldn't be real. What would he do if it was?

 What would he do if it wasn't?

 If he allowed himself to believe that the man in front of him was really Rex, but it was just another lie he was being fed by the cruel mistress of fate, it would break him. He could not handle having his spirit broken once more when he had only just begun piecing it back together after so much time being broken.

 No. He would not allow himself to be tricked like this. He attempted to stomp out the small spark of hope that seeing this man had ignited within him. He would no longer be a pawn, an entertainment for those who gained joy from the suffering of others. He couldn't do it again. Not again.

 The man sharply took in a breath at the utterance of the name from Kix's lips and took a small step forward, his hands stopping their movement in front of him. "Kix," he breaths out. His shoulders sag, the tension he was previously holding disappearing as if he had just taken his first breath of peace after escaping a never-ending journey of despair.

 He walked forward, quickening his pace with each step. Kix flinched away, taking two steps back and moving his hand to his hip to grab at a blaster that was not there.

 The man stopped, a questioning pain coming across his features. "Kix?" His voice cracks as he says the name. Almost as if it hurts to say.

 "Don't," Kix snaps out with as much force as he can muster. He feels the tears as they begin cascading down his face. Flowing without any end in sight as Kix's damn keeping them in place shatters at hearing his name from an all too familiar memory. "I won't be tricked by this. Not again."

 "Kix..." The man takes two steps forward, gesturing between the two of them. "It's me. It's Rex. Your Captain."

 "No!" Kix steps back again, shaking his head as he tries to put as much distance between himself and the ghost in front of him as possible. "My Captain, my brother, is dead. All of my brothers are dead." His breathing begins to speed up and his heart breaks as he spits his venom at the image of the man he once trusted more than anyone else in the universe. "My brothers are dead," he quietly chokes out. "And it's all my fault."

 The man stares at him, his eyes tearing up and his heart aching at hearing Kix's words.

 "It's all my fault," he chokes out again. "If I had been faster - if I had been good enough- none of this, the Empire, the Jedi, the death; none of it would have ever happened." He drops to his knees, holding his head in his hands as his tears continue to pool onto the cold stone floor. "I failed you Captain. I failed Fives. I failed Jesse.” A piercing sob tore through him. “All of this happened because of me."

 There is no movement, not a single sound echoing throughout the room except the strangled cries of the still young man. And with each passing second, he can feel his resolve crumbling, until it has completely disappeared.

 He sniffles, his tears still not slowing as they fall from his face onto the floor. "I don't care if your real or not... I wish that you were though.” He pauses. “Just... Just so I can tell Rex that I'm sorry. I'm- I'm so sorry for letting you down. For causing so much pain." He clenches his fists, feeling his nails dig into his palms until he feels them cut into his hand and draw blood. "For killing so many of our brothers."

 For a moment, neither man moves, both keeping their eyes trained on the floor until the sound of boots echo throughout the room, accompanying the lonesome sobs of a defeated young man. They stop in front of Kix and squeak as the man who wears them kneels down to Kix's level.

 He gently places his hand on Kix's shoulder, briefly stopping when Kix flinches away before letting his hand travel to the back of Kix's neck. He leans forward, guiding Kix toward him until their foreheads touch. "It's not your fault Kix."

 Kix slowly draws himself back, looking up at the man with red eyes and a tear-stained face, finding a pained stare looking back at him. He searches the eyes of the older man, seeing nothing but kindness and sincerity in his gaze. "Rex?" His broken voice comes out as a whimper, only loud enough for the man in front of him to just barely hear it.

 The man nods, a small smile coming across his face, conflicting with the tear-stained cheeks it moves with. "It's me, vod. It's me."

 "Rex!" Kix cries out as he lunges forward, tightly wrapping his arms around Rex and pulling him as close as he can, feeling Rex do the same thing. Sobbing into his shoulder as his walls come crashing down and the small spark of hope he failed to extinguish ignites the long dormant fire within him once again. "I'm so sorry, vod. I tried. I tried so hard to make everything right. I tried so hard to save all of you." His tears have already made a wet spot on Rex's shirt and his breath comes out in huffs as he breaks down in his brother’s arms. "I'm so sorry Rex. I'm so sorry."

 Rex tightly squeezes his brother, not ever wanting to let him go. "No, Kix. You have nothing to be sorry for." His own tears return, falling onto Kix's back as the other continues sobbing into his shoulder. "You did everything you could and you would have made it if I had just listened to Fives sooner." The younger man shakes as his cries continue and Rex begins to rub small, soothing circles on his back, rocking them back and forth where they are curled up on the floor. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault." He whispers the phrase, over and over and over, until Kix stops shaking and his breathing has evened out against his shoulder.

 Pulling back, Rex smiles as he is finally given a moment to look over the face of his little brother after so many years. His eyes are red and puffy, and there are tears that make his cheeks shine, but it is Kix. The same brave, kind Kix that he once knew. "I see you've copied my beard," he joked, reaching his hand up to stroke at the hair on his face.

 Kix laughs, wiping at his nose as he takes a deep breath to try and calm down. "Believe me, it will be the first thing to go once I get my hands on a razor."

 Rex chuckles, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Kix's neck and guide him forward until their foreheads are touching once again.

 Kix closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. "I missed you vod. It's- It's been so long--" His words are cut short by Rex dragging him into a tight hug, fisting the fabric of Kix's shirt so tight that his knuckles turn white.

 He takes a deep breath, grabbing onto Rex's shirt in the same way, never wanting to let go.

 "Welcome home, vod," he hears in his ear. "Welcome home."

[yelena-bellova]

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine: Trouble In Paradise

Series Masterlist

Plot: The Resistance has been chasing information across the galaxy to confirm the identity of the voice behind the mysterious radio broadcast. Meanwhile, Y/n has been keeping secrets from her loved ones that could have catastrophic consequences...

Warnings: language, intrusive violent thoughts, talk of the death of a parent, no beta reader because we die like men...

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: GAH we’ve made it to TROS. I can’t believe we’re nearing the end of this series...Nope, I’m not getting emotional today lol. Thanks for patiently waiting for this chapter, I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve updated. Hopefully I don’t disappoint :) --------

I’d joked as a kid that I’d always wanted to float. The concept of hovering above the ground suspended in midair had tickled me, but the reality of physics had crushed that dream quickly. 

So naturally, my inner child was giddy to learn it was indeed possible.

I sat crossed legged, hands resting on my knees, eyes shut, more at ease than I’d been in a long time from seven feet in the air. Meditation had always brought me a deep sense of peace, but diving deeper into a Jedi’s way of performing the act had taken the whole thing to a new level. 

“Be with me…” came a voice from the body that sat adjacent to me. The corners of my mouth lifted up slightly as I listened to Rey try her hardest while still attempting to remain relaxed and open. It was a blessing and a curse to be a perfectionist and a Jedi, you were wildly driven but also would beat yourself up generously if you couldn’t get something. That was Rey to a t. Not that I wasn’t just as devout, but I’d trained myself long enough to know that you couldn’t perfect something overnight. 

“They’re not with me,” she declared with a scoff, “Ugh…”

Rey effectively called an end to our session as I opened my eyes to see her gracefully flip through the air and meet the ground. Her half of the rocks we’d been keeping in the air with us fell while I eased mine down with me, landing in a crouched position. “You’re going to get it.” “I’m not so sure I agree,” she sighed. “I haven’t figured it out either if it makes you feel any better,” I offered with a shrug, brushing the dirt from my leggings. 

Rey made an objective noise, “That’s not true, you can hear your grandfather.”

“Only because he reaches out to me, I’m still not able to hear or see him by my own doing. And believe me, I’m trying…”

“It comes with time and a healthy dose of patience…” said the warming presence I sensed just a few feet away from us. “I’m starting to think it isn’t possible,” Rey stated as we walked toward my mother, “To hear the voices of the Jedi who came before.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” Mom replied simply, she had drilled that phrase into our brains so many times over the past few months that I swore it was tattooed somewhere in my skull.

“Nothing’s impossible,” Rey echoed, a small smile spreading across her face at the encouragement, “I’m going to run the training course. Are you coming?” “No, I ran it earlier,” I said, elbowing her lightly in the arm, “One day I’ll beat you but today was not that day.” Rey was such a humble person, which made it all the more entertaining to watch her try not to take delight in being the best at something. She slyly grinned at me before accepting Uncle Luke’s lightsaber from Mom and heading off towards the start of the course.

Can I go with her? Unless you need me? “No, Bee,” I smiled down at the droid, left in my custody till Poe returned, “You can go with Rey.” He happily rolled his way through the jungle, in search of his friend.

“Any word from the Falcon?” I asked hopefully as Mom and I slowly strolled back towards base.

“Not yet,” she answered, trying her hardest to sound unworried, “It may be too risky to send a comm back. I wouldn’t worry yet.”

“Telling me not to worry only makes me worry more,” I returned, clenching and unclenching my fists in an attempt to relieve some of the tension in my body.

Only a handful of Resistance personnel knew the details of Finn and Poe’s mission. Those who did understood the weight and magnitude of the information they were potentially retrieving. But as with every high-risk mission, bringing back intel meant bringing themselves back, which was a big if…

“Mom, what if it really is what we think it is?” I asked, sounding more like a curious child than a concerned commander, “Worse, what if it’s who we think it is?”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” she sighed, “But the truth is that we don’t know for certain what we’re up against. We’re anticipating and planning in the dark. We can only pray that Poe and Finn return with something that could shed even a little light on the matter.”

Light versus dark, an age old battle with a new enemy for each generation to face. But the same enemy coming back twice? Nobody could have predicted it. And while it was true, we had no official confirmation that the broadcast across the galaxy had been who we believed it to be, those who had lived through the rebellion had no doubts. 

“Do me a favor and let me know when they’re back if I’m not around,” I requested, breaking away from my mother who was heading back towards the command center. I needed a few minutes to myself to attend to matters I couldn’t concern her or Rey with.

“Y/n,” she called and waited for me to face her, “I know you’re scared, but don’t feel like you need to fight your battles on your own.” If only she knew the battles I was fighting and just how important it was that nobody find them out. I hated secrets, I’d spent my entire life keeping them from those who meant the most to me. But the ones I kept now were in a new category of extreme, they were the kind that when all was exposed could ruin every relationship I had. 

So I simply nodded, gave a tight lipped smile and turned back on my way. 

I ended up deep in the opposite side of the jungle, far away from the training course and far enough away from base that nobody would stumble upon me. I scaled one of the large trees with ease, landing on a sturdy top branch and settling onto it. Like D’Qar, I kept a secret corner of Ajan Kloss for myself for when I needed quiet or clarity. But both places where were I faced my demons, only the ones I had now couldn’t be combatted with a lightsaber. Not yet, at least…

I took a deep breath and looked out to the beautiful horizon, inwardly beating myself up for what I was about to do.

“Ren, are you there?”

Silence.

“Ren, I know you’re there somewhere,” I pushed, trying to open the connection between us once again, “You’ve got to tell me if you know anything about what’s been going on.”

Nothing.

“This isn’t a matter of First Order or Resistance, it’s not about you or I. If this is what we think it is, both of us are fucked so if you know something, I need to know it too.” We hadn’t spoken since the evening of the broadcast, I knew him better than I wished to and knew that any threat to his rule would send him frantically searching for the culprit. Since he’d gone silent on me, I’d reached out often to try and get any information out of him I could. It wasn’t so I could use it against him, it was simply to figure out what we’d be up against. He was the only person I knew close to the dark side of the force, meaning he was the closest to answers I could get. I was toeing a dangerous line and I knew it.

As always, he didn’t answer. Once I’d served my usefulness to him, he’d dropped our frequent communication without so much as a warning. I’d spent so long trying to get as far from him as possible and now that I needed something from him, he was nowhere to be found.

Thoroughly done with myself, I groaned and leaned my head against the tree. “Resistance commander trying to strike conversation with the leader of the First Order…Well done, Solo.” Then suddenly, my mind was struck with an overwhelming pain. I was having another attack.

I stood amongst the familiar flames. 

Bodies were scattered around me, their screams echoing through the air.

My usual y/e/c turned yellow as I stared down at the carnage.

Ren stood near me.

Obi-Wan did not.

“Don’t be afraid,” Ren said in an eerily soft voice, “This is who you were always meant to be.” Another scream, but it wasn’t in the dream.

I clung to the tree with one arm, the other was clutching my head to try and make the pain stop. Taking frantic whimpering breaths, I tried to remind myself that it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It was just my nightmare, the one I’d lived through my entire life. It was nothing more.

But then, my grandfather had never not been there. 

And I’d never seen myself as a Sith. 

I decided that was enough for one day, I didn’t know if there was anything else on my agenda but I’d find something. Anything to keep me out of my own head, which was becoming a more dangerous place to be with every passing day…

————

It was a few hours later, while tucked away with Rey in her corner of the base, that the day took another turn. We were going through the old Jedi texts when Nimi shouted for both of us, “Falcon’s back!”

I groaned in relief, setting my book down and leaping from my seat. Rey and Bee followed close behind as we made our way through the base, but the smoke trail leading back to the ship’s landing area wasn’t a good sign.

Sure enough, the Falcon was in flames. I stopped short at the sight, my beloved ship, my home, burning up. People were flocking to it, some to watch but most to help extinguish the fire. The Falcon was a Resistance symbol and people felt protective over it, it was a legacy.

“It’s on the fire, the whole thing’s on fire! All of it is on fire!” The figure emerging from the chaos typically sparked joy in me, but at the moment of his appearance I found little comfort in his presence. Sensing my anger, Rey stepped forward while I turned my back away from the Falcon and ran my hands over my face trying to keep calm.

“Hey.” “Hey,” Poe greeted.

“There’s a spy?” she asked, I’d admit that I forgot all about the mission in the moment.

“Really could’ve used your help out there,” Poe said loudly over the noise that surrounded us.

“How’d it go?” “Really bad actually…Really bad.”

I inhaled deeply and spun on my heels, my resolve to remain calm fizzling with every word my boyfriend said. “Really? I wouldn’t have been able to tell.” Poe’s hands readjusted themselves on his hips, “Look, you don’t understand-“ “No, Poe,” I raised a finger towards him before pointing to the Falcon, “You clearly don’t understand. What was the one rule I had for taking the Falcon? Don’t do anything dangerous!” “And you don’t understand that I had no choice,” Poe raised his voice, gesturing to the Falcon, “We had First Order on our tails, I did what had to be done.” “And pray tell, what needed to be done to my ship?” I asked, flattening my palms together and pressing my lips together in a faux smile. Poe breathed in to explain before he caught sight of Bee resting in between mine and Rey’s feet. “What’d you do to the droid?”

“What’d you do to the Falcon?” Rey countered.

“The Falcon’s in a lot better shape than he is.” “I beg to differ,” I interjected, my voice raising an octave. “BB-8’s not on fire,” Rey gestured toward the still flaming ship.

“What’s left of him isn’t on fire,” Poe’s eyes widened as he looked down at his droid.

Growing tired of the exchange, Rey cut to the chase, “Tell us what happened.” “You tell me first,” Poe demanded stubbornly.

“I asked you first and you still haven’t given me an answer,” I argued, throwing my hands out to their sides in frustration. 

“You know what you are?” Rey began, a sarcastic smile plastered on her face as she stared down Poe.

“What?” “You’re difficult. Really difficult, you’re a difficult man.” “You, you are…” Poe started, letting his sentence end with a growl as he stalked off to examine Bee. Rey went to greet Finn who swept her in up in a hug

I crossed my arms and rotated my posture to speak in his direction, “She’s not wrong.” “You two aren’t exactly easy to deal with all the time either,” he fought back, not even bothering to face me as he examined Bee, “Buddy, look at you. You’re a mess.”

“I’d be a whole lot easier to deal with if you would tell me what the hell happened to my ship,” I raised a finger to him as he began to inhale, “Do not say one thing about Bee, he lost one part and Rey and I were going to fix him up before you got back.” A roar from Chewbacca, hard at work trying to help fix the Falcon gave me the answer I’d been asking for. We’d officially graduated from anger to rage…

“You lightspeed skipped?!” I shouted.

“Yeah, well, it got us back here, didn’t it?” Poe countered.

“Poe, the compressor’s down,” Rey explained, her face exposing her shock.

“Oh, I know, I was there.”

“Every time…” Finn mumbled to himself as he stood to the side of us. “You can’t lightspeed skip the Falcon.”

Poe sprung to his feet, “Actually, turns out you can.” “Does that mean you should?” I scolded. Finn, ever the peacemaker, tried to calm the three of us down. “All right, guys, we just landed, okay?” “Poe, you are never allowed to fly the Falcon again,” I seethed, “Ever.” “You can’t make that call, she’s a Resistance ship,” Poe objected, coming to stand in front of me.

“She’s my ship that I allow select Resistance members to use, of which you are no longer one.” “Okay, guys,” Finn interjected as gently as he could, “Can you two deal with your issues later and actually discuss the mission?” 

Looking like a child who had just had a toy taken away, Poe silently stalked away from me with no more than a steely glare. The argument was far from over on both our ends.

“What happened on the mission?” Rey asked, changing the subject for all of our sakes as we followed Poe. 

“Bad news, that’s what happened,” Poe explained with his back to us.

“No spy?” 

“No, spy.”

“Can we please communicate like adults for five seconds?” I asked, pressing m hands against my mouth in an attempt to not let my fury fly free. “Did we make contact with the spy or not?” Rey asked, leaving no room for interpretation.

“There’s a mole in the First Order, and they sent us a message,” Finn explained, but Bee decided to interrupt with his own retelling of how he’d gotten his injury which caused Poe to stop in his tracks.

“You dropped a tree on him?” he asked Rey.

“You blew both sub-alternators?” she retaliated.

“No, he did more than that,” I spoke up with a humorless laugh, “He may have caused permanent damage to the Falcon, you could’ve torn the whole damn thing apart.” “Well, you know what, maybe you two should’ve been out there with us!” Poe finally exclaimed, we’d gotten to the heart of the matter at last. “You know I want to be out there with you,” Rey cried, “We both do!” “Yeah, but you’re not. You’re here training, for what?” Poe continued, sighing in disappointment afterwards as he looked between us both, “You two are the best fighters we have. We need you, out there, not here.” Silence had fallen and Poe had successfully gotten in the last word, Rey couldn’t fight any more and Finn didn’t want to. I however had plenty more to say on all subjects discussed and as Poe left us, ordering someone to get R2 into reconditioning, I went after him.

“Did you think that conversation was over?”

“Hoped, yes,” he replied, not slowing down to accommodate me. “It’s like talking to a wall,” I growled, walking double time to catch up to him, “I have told you at least ten times why I’m not on missions right now and yet you still give me shit for it.” “Y/n, you know as well as I do that things are dicey right now and we need our best out on the frontlines,” he stated as we argued through the base, “You and Rey are our best and you’re here training for something and you can’t even tell me what it is.” “How am I supposed to tell you when I don’t know what it is?” I asked, waving a hand between the two of us, “I can sense things that you can’t, you have to trust that what I’m doing is best for the long term.” “Well, then maybe don’t give me so much shit next time something happens to the Falcon on my watch when you’re not there and I’m doing what’s best for the long term.” My feet stopped but Poe’s didn’t, causing me to have to speak louder. “You really don’t understand why I’m upset, do you?” He swung a foot around and pivoted, he was visibly tired but still willing to listen. If only the sight of him didn’t fill me with so much anger…This wasn’t how his returns usually went.

“That ship is the last piece of my dad that I have,” I began, willing my voice not to crack, “I don’t have his wedding ring, his jacket, I don’t even have a picture of the two of us. I have the Falcon,” I pointed back in its direction, smoke still rising high above the trees surrounding it, “That’s it. So when it comes back in pieces, you’re right, I’m going to be upset and I’m not going to apologize for it. Because I know if you still had your mother’s A-Wing and someone so much as got a scratch on it, you’d never forget it.”

Poe kept quiet, his softening eyes betraying his hardened stare. I’d won, but it certainly didn’t feel like it. “I’m gonna go try and save what’s left of my father’s ship,” I finished, breaking into a jog back towards the Falcon before Poe could see the tears in my eyes.

————

Grease stained, sweaty and reeking of oil, I finally emerged from under the Falcon with Chewie at my side. She’d be fine, but it had taken a lot of hands to get everything repaired. Poe had done more damage than I’d ever seen done to her, it truly was a miracle they’d made it back alive.

“Can you tell me something?” I asked Chewie as I rubbed furiously at a splotch of grease on my palm, “Was lightspeed skipping really the only way to get out of whatever was going on?”

Chewie groaned his response, telling me that while he didn’t like it at all, he hadn’t come up with any other ideas as to how to survive the TIE attack.

I sighed, partially from exhaustion but also from lingering frustrations, “So do you think I’m being too hard on Poe? I mean, I’m pissed that he did this to Dad’s ship but…if it was the only way to stay alive then…”

My honorary uncle agreed that Poe had probably done the right thing, but by no means was he pleased about what happened to the Falcon. Chewie was just as protective of the Solo family ship as I was.

I hummed in reply as I thought the day’s events over, wondering how much worse it was going to get at the briefing that was only moments away. The intel Poe and Finn had brought back had been being decoded all afternoon and now we were finally going to find out what had been discovered. If the rest of the day had been any indication of how the briefing was going to go, it wasn’t going to be good.

I weaved my way through the growing crowd underneath Tantive IV, scanning faces till I found my mother. When I spotted her, there was no way to get to her. I also was in no condition to stand at the front of the entire Resistance, I’d probably have black oil stains on my skin for days. I slipped in between Connix and Snap, patting the pilot on the shoulder as I took my place.

Poe stepped forward once everyone had assembled, he’d been tucked away in the command center all day during the decoding process. Just before he started speaking, his eyes sought me out for the first time since our argument. All anger had drained from his face, replaced with concern and confusion. I furrowed my brows, silently asking what was wrong from across the crowd, whatever he’d heard had been troublesome…

“We’ve decoded the intel from the First Order spy and it confirms the worst,” he paused to look down and sigh, “Somehow, Palpatine returned.” I wished I could have said I was surprised.

Mom and I caught each other’s eye, our worst suspicions having been confirmed. It was another moment where I realized fairness didn’t exist for some people, one of them being her. My mother had already fought a war against the Emperor, she’d lost her home in the crossfire, and somehow he lived to give her more sorrow. My heart ached at the hardened, yet vulnerable, look that flashed across her face.

“Wait, do we believe this?” Rose asked from her position near me.

“It cannot be, the Emperor’s dead,” Admiral Aftab exclaimed. “Dark science,” Beaumont explained, his eyes widened with shock, “Cloning. Secrets only the Sith knew.” “He’s been planning his revenge. His followers have been building something for years,” Poe continued, “The largest fleet the galaxy has ever known. He calls it the Final Order. In 16 hours, attacks on all free worlds begin. The Emperor and his fleet have been hiding in the Unknown Regions. On a world called Exegol.”

R2 started chirping frantically from behind me.

“Exegol does not appear on any star chart, but legend describes it as a hidden world of the Sith,” 3PO translated to the group.

“There were always whispers of his hunger to cheat death,” Beaumont said with a shake of his head. I hadn’t heard of cloning having been done since the formation of the clone army decades before. It all seemed like an explanation you’d find in a children’s storybook, but it was our reality.

Mom had gone to stand next to Poe, conversing on how Palpatine had been pulling the strings since the very start of our problems, as we swallowed the information amongst ourselves. I didn’t know where I fit into any of what was going on around me, all I knew was that I needed to be at the helm of the fight. The something that I’d been training for was upon us and after hearing the details, I knew it would be uglier than I’d imagined.

“If we want to stop him, we must find him,” Maz said to the group, “We must find Exegol.” “General, Commander Solo?” Rey interrupted, I hadn’t even noticed she’d slipped away and returned, now carrying a book under her arm, “Can I speak with you both?” I nodded before snaking my way through the crowd, me and Mom followed her back to her station where she laid out one of the Jedi texts for us to see. “I know how to get to Exegol,” she said confidently.

“Tell me,” Mom urged as my eyes skimmed the pages of the dusty book Rey had poured over. “Luke searched for it, for a long time. He nearly found it. There are ciphers here I can’t read but he said to get there, you need one of these,” she pointed to a small triangular object, “A Sith wayfinder. They’re compasses that lead the way to Exegol. To stop what we both know is coming…I need to finish what Luke started. Find Exegol. Find the Emperor.” “She’s right,” I endorsed my friend’s idea wholeheartedly, “If Uncle Luke made it this far, he’s already done half the work for us. Look, it says the last place he’d been when searching for one was on Pasaana. This is our shot at stopping this.” Mom regretfully shook her head and shot us down with a single syllable, “No.”

“We don’t exactly have any other options,” I said confusedly, “We’ve got a set course right in front of us, we need to chart it.” “I don’t want to go without your blessing, I can’t speak for Y/n, but I will,” Rey said with conviction in her eyes, “I will. It’s what you would do.”

I watched expectantly as we awaited Mom’s answer, knowing that we both made too much sense for her to say no again. The good news was if she did, we didn’t technically need her permission. I owned my own ship and I didn’t need to order Rey to come with, one way or another we were getting to Pasaana. 

“You two can go,” Mom finally relented, “But I hope you both understand just how critical this mission is. There’s no room for error, we have a little over one day to stop the attack.” “And we will,” I quickly assured her, “There’s nobody more suited for this task than us.” “I can’t argue there,” Mom admitted with a sigh, looking up proudly at her two Padawans, “Get what you need, you’ll leave immediately.”

--------

A/N: And we’re off once again...Hope everybody enjoyed this one, we’ve got a lot in store for these last few chapters. Hopefully I can still surprise you all a little lol. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

Taglist: @m1rkw00dpr1ncess​ @springfox04​ @constantdisgrace​ @holybatflapexpert​ @seninjakitey​ @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet​ @leilei-draws​ @eternal-fandoms​ @dream-alittlebiggerdarling​ @imaginecrushes​ @eternallyvenus​ @thescarletknight2014​ @simplybarnes​ @captain-america5 @breyasficletblog​ @caseymcflurry @stumbleonmywords​ @april-14-blog​ @i-ievu​ @ultrunning​ @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @caswinchester2000​ @meraki-loki​ @lovinnholland @wishing4wishes @fruitloopzzz​ @bbuckysbeardd​ @justanotherblonde23​ @ace-fiction​ @abysshaven​ @thisshitfucks​ @astudyoftimeywimeystuff​ @itsfangirlmendes​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @zoriis​

Star Wars Permanent Taglist: @paintballkid711​ @katrynec​ @caswinchester2000​ @theliterarymess​ @softly-sad​ @angelicadameron

[writeyouin]

Swerve X Reader – Changes - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – A Rescue Without a Plan

A/N – Finally back to this baby, and boy am I glad to be back.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

“Making your way in the world today, takes everything you've got. Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.” You sang the Cheers song quietly in your cell, concentrating heavily on the cell bars.

Ever since you had forced yourself to calm down, streams of information had come flooding across your optics, revealing structural strengths and weaknesses to everything you looked at. You hoped to find something about the electrified bars that might lead to your escape, but so far, all the weaknesses were ones you couldn’t exploit from within the cell. You had long since given up on desperately trying to contact the Lost Light, figuring that something was blocking your comms.

You sighed, giving up on your song, a childish idea coming to mind. You knew nothing would come of it, but a smile reached your lips as you stared at your hand, “Go-Go-Gadget, Lock Pick.”

Naturally, nothing happened, but at least you were entertained, so you continued the game, taking comfort in the familiar words. “Go-Go-Gadget, Gun. Go-Go-Gadget, Scanner. Go-Go-Gadget, Blow Torch-” You jumped back in shock as one of your fingertips split open at the command, a strong blue flame roaring up from the split. You didn’t know whether you should be praising Brainstorm, for this was most certainly his addition, or cursing him for the cartoonish way you had accessed the tool. You were almost afraid to wonder how many of your body’s other commands were linked to the phrase Go-Go-Gadget.

Without wasting any more time, you put the flame to the bars, beginning the laborious process of escaping your cell.

As you worked, you had one more idea which you hastily tried, “Go-Go-Gadget, Manual.”

Before your optics, a string of writing cropped up, instructions on how your Cybertronian body worked. “Play audio,” You said, having been introduced to the opening menu. Perceptor’s voice filled your audials, starting your tutorial on your new body. You vented air through your systems and got to work, studying during your attempted escape.

Once he had been released from his cell, Swerve spent all of his time at the Lost Light’s shooting range, his aim never improving despite his efforts. He knew he had little hope of becoming a soldier in the time it would take to get to you, but he didn’t care, so long as he had something to keep him occupied. How could other humans be so cruel as to throw you of all people in a battle arena? You were kind and compassionate, and you would never have even considered harming another species, claiming that all were equal.

Swerve had often found you crying over books wherein humans had treated others terribly, mostly among their own species. He remembered asking you why you chose to read such books as The Diary of Anne Frank or Boy Erased, if they only served to make you upset, and you had replied that they were important to read lest history be repeated from ignorance. It was awful to think that you, the most empathetic of souls, were going to be scrapped for the entertainment of others.

Swerve knew they didn’t have long to rescue you. If the Arena’s advertisements were to be believed, you would be entering one of their battles in less than three cycles, when the new contestants would arrive to scrap you.

Swerve couldn’t forget the picture they had uploaded of you on the advertisement. You had been harmed in ways he never wanted to see, deep gashes in your arms and visible dents everywhere, yet in the picture, you were defiantly angry. He alone could recognise the fear beneath, but he couldn’t be prouder to see that you weren’t giving your captor the satisfaction of your apprehension.

He reloaded his gun, aiming it at the target, imagining it was your captors. Despite his anger, he missed, hitting a spot on the wall at least six feet from the target. Coolant sprung to his optics. You were in danger and he was completely useless. He couldn’t pilot the ship, he couldn’t shoot, it wasn’t even him that had discovered your location; that had been Nightbeat while he was too busy feeling sorry for himself. He was useless.

Rodimus’ voice rang clear through Swerve’s comms. It was a channel he had left open until you were found; that way anyone who needed him could contact him.

“Swerve, get to the board room. We have news on (Y/N).”

Swerve brusquely wiped the coolant from his optics, throwing the gun on the table before leaving. As soon as he was in the hallway, he transformed, speeding to the board room, eager for any information he could get, yet also terrified about what it could mean for you.

He didn’t say anything as he entered, his attention, like everyone else’s drawn to the video-feed of the Arena, where a human woman in acid-green armour was speaking.

“Greetings to fans, peasants, and nobles alike. It is I, Lady Ouida, your adored host of the Arena.”

Lady Ouida. Swerve glared at her holographic form, now having a name and a face to put to his enemy.

“As all of us betting royals know, there is to be a new competitor here. The foul-mouthed mini menace has refused to state her name, but we don’t care about that. We only care about one thing and one thing only. Which of our noble competitors will be the one to take her out?”

Banners depicting different armoured competitors unfurled around Lady Ouida; the scumbags that would try to take your life.

“In this message to all of you, my lovely subjects, I would like to make a special announcement. Although we had planned to set the battle for three cycles time, we have hit a little snag.”

Warmth flared in Swerve’s spark, as he hoped that the battle would be delayed even further, giving the Lost Light more time for your rescue.

Lady Ouida snapped her fingers, motioning for someone off-screen to do her bidding. The hope that Swerve had dared to feel was quickly extinguished as several trucks with chain attachments drove forward, dragging you behind them, the chains affixed to your arms.

“Our little menace here was caught roaming the halls of our fair kingdom, trying to escape her fate. She may not look like much, but she has proved to be very resourceful indeed, which I am sure you’ll keep in mind when betting.”

It looked like you desperately wanted to retort, but a modified gag stopped you from doing so. It didn’t stop you from attempting to kick at several of your captors, your pede falling short of its mark.

“NO!” Swerve cried out as you were electrocuted, making you fall to the floor. The others in the room spared him looks of pity before their attention returned to Lady Ouida.

“Spirited, is she not?” The Lady continued, spurred on by your attempted attack. “Alas, that brings me to my next point. We cannot keep her subdued for long and as such, we will have to cut betting short. You will have till the end of the cycle, for at dawn THE BATTLE BEGINS.”

The feed ended with a screen of competitors and their odds against you.

Rodimus wasted no time in addressing the room, all traces of his usual playfulness gone. “ETA to the Arena?” He asked no one in particular.

“Two cycles at most,” One of the Co-pilots answered.

“Not good enough. If you have to burn out the engines, you’ll get us there tonight. Strategy?”

Megatron brought up a hologram for the planet, pointing out the building on the map, a modernised castle with plasma-turrets as its main defences. “If it were me, I’d have the turrets hacked. The fastest route to the Arena itself is by the West wall. The ship is far too big to hide, so our best option is an outright assault. We could blast through the walls with an Alpha team. Meanwhile, a smaller Beta Team could attack the Northern ramparts, where we believe the prison cells to be located, in case (Y/N) is still being held there.”

“Who’s our hacker for this?”

“We have an accomplished team that will be led by Skids.”

“What will we need to get through the castle’s walls?”

“Ultra Magnus assures me that he has a supply of confiscated weapons from Whirl and Brainstorm.”

Rodimus nodded in acknowledgement, “You know Megatron, it’s rare, but on occasions such as this, I’m glad that you’re a crazed war-lord with a lot of strategic experience.”

Megatron looked uncomfortable at the compliment but didn’t comment.

Swerve raised his hand in what he assumed was a military fashion, “I’d like to be in the Alpha team.”

Rodimus took in some air with an awkward hiss, “Yeahhh, about that. Don’t you think you’d be better off, uh waiting to comfort (Y/N) in the med-bay or something? You’re um- You’re not exactly a good shot.”

Swerve bristled at the veiled insult. “THAT IS MY CONJUNX ENDURAE. I’LL BE GOING DOWN THERE EVEN IF I HAVE TO STEAL A POD-SHIP!”

“Okay, yep, cool. You’re there to rescue (Y/N), got it. Just… Maybe stay behind the rest of us, okay? Wait no. You go in front, I don’t want to be shot in the back or anything-” Rodimus stopped talking when he noticed more than one bot glaring at him for his lack of tact. “I mean, uh- You just go where you think is best, buddy. You got this.”

“Let’s just continue going over the plan,” Megatron interrupted, turning his attention back to the planetary holograph.

Thankfully, nobody questioned Swerve further, and he was free to remain undisturbed as the meeting went on.

Once again, you were behind bars but this time you were outside of the prison block. You were now in the centre of the Arena, which greatly resembled the Ancient Colosseums of Earth. You cradled your servo close to your body, the pain immense where your captors had crushed it after they had caught you trying to use the blow torch a second time; if there was any hope of returning to Swerve, it wouldn’t be the same way you escaped before.

With nothing else to do, you resumed listening to the recorded manual. Theoretically, you knew how to scan a vehicle and transform, so long as you found something to scan. Maybe you could convince Ouida to show you a vehicle in order to make the games more interesting. You doubted that plan would work, but if Ouida thought you were going to die in her games anyway, she might grant the request.

“In the event that you are in danger and need to record a message into your processor for an ally to discover-”

You focused on Perceptor’s instructions. Now seemed like the perfect time to record a message for Swerve, should he ever find your body. You tried to focus as your processor informed you that your voice and surroundings were being recorded.

“Swerve, I wish I could see you right now to tell you everything that’s on my mind, but if you’re watching this… Well, we know what’s happened.” You tried to keep your tone happy, but it proved to be impossible when thinking of the last time you had seen Swerve and how badly that had gone. You couldn’t stop from crying as you continued.

“Swerve, you are my whole world. I love you so much and I’m so sorry about how I acted. I was scared and confused, and… That’s no reason for the way I was. I’m terrified of what might happen to you if I die. Please, don’t think sadly on this. You have so much time left in the universe, and it’s a brighter place with you in it. No matter what happens, I need you to remember, I’m sticking with you. Never forget that you have my heart, always. I’m sorry that this is goodbye. I love you.”

Ending the feed, you hugged your knees to your chassis with your good hand, while you sat in silence and wept.

Swerve gripped the base of his chair, in the cruiser that the Alpha team had taken, hard enough to dent it. Upon reaching a close enough proximity to the planet’s surface, he had received a few dozen delayed private comms from you, the last of which was time-stamped only one hour prior. You were being kept in a cage, telling him how sorry you were and how much you loved him. If you were sticking with him, then he was going to stick right back to you.

Turbulence hit the ship, but Swerve’s determination didn’t waver. He knew it was just the first volley of attacks from the turrets, until Skids’ team would be able to disable them. Swerve remembered feeling like this thousands of times in the war. The feeling that you could be shot down at any moment on the way to your goal, but that you couldn’t think about death, lest it leech into your processor, freezing out all other thoughts. Swerve wouldn’t die. He couldn’t. Not while you were in danger. You were his mission and this was just another, smaller, war.

Swerve remembered his very first mission. His entire squadron had died, except for him. Being a mini-bot, he’d managed to hide without being discovered; he’d spent centuries hating himself for living as a coward instead of dying a hero with the rest of his squad. As it turned out, many bots had had similar experiences which haunted them. This time, he would not hide, his team would survive, they would rescue you, and Swerve would tell you every minute of every day that he loved you.

“SKIDS,” Rodimus yelled over the comms, “A LITTLE HELP WITH THE FRAGGING TURRETS.”

“Working on it,” Skids replied frantically. “They have one hell of an IT team there, Rodimus. The turrets are encrypted at least five times over.”

“Great. I’ll pass on the compliment when I meet them. Can you stop the turrets or not?”

There was a sharp silence on Skids end which was answer enough; the team would have to go in under fire.

“Okay,” Rodimus looked to his team. Ultra Magnus, Tailgate, Cyclonus, and Swerve were there, along with a few other volunteers that made their number twenty. “Plan B. We drive fast and furious, ploughing through their defences.”

The team were less enthusiastic at the thought of being shot, but none of them buckled under pressure; everyone was ready to go to your aid.

“Beta team, in position?” Rodimus asked, as they had planned to do before the Alpha Team dropped down onto the planet’s surface.

“Negative,” Megatron replied. His team comprised of Drift, Nautica, Nightbeat, and Brainstorm. It was decided that a smaller team would be better for infiltration. “The blueprints were wrong. We landed right in their armoury and are facing heavy fire.”

“HEY, NO, NOT COOL. WE WERE FACING HEAVY FIRE FIRST.” Rodimus pouted. “THAT’S OUR THING. GET YOUR OWN THING.”

“Don’t be a sparkling,” Megatron hissed. “Rendezvous here. We need backup.”

Swerve crushed another part of his chair. Meeting up with the beta team would lead them further away from you. They should face the turrets, consequences be damned. Swerve imagined reaching over to the control panel and forcing the team to drop. If he wasn’t afraid to have their energon on his servos, he’d do it. However, frustrating as it was, he left the planning up to the Co-Captains, itching for the moment that he would finally be useful. So far, everything in the plan was falling apart.

“Get ready to fight, crew,” Rodimus warned as the cruiser approached the Beta Teams location. Everyone stood up, heading to the back of the ship, “Dropping in three, two, one.”

The doors opened, leaving all the transformed vehicles to drive out on the ramp, jumping the gap onto the planet. There, the battle began. A handful of Cybertronians against a few hundred organics, none of whom seemed to be human; perhaps Lady Ouida was the only human among the organics that inhabited the planet.

Swerve raged with every shot he took. In hallways full to the brim of enemies, even he couldn’t miss. His blaster kept ringing off with compliments. Good job. Nice shootin’ Tex. You’re my hero.

However, as many shots as he got in, the enemies didn’t drop. It seemed that they were immune to most of the weapons, only stumbling slightly before they got back up to fight.

“This isn’t working,” Cyclonus growled through gritted teeth, him and Drift being the only ones to do any real damage with their swords, though they kept getting pushed back by the horde.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Rodimus said sardonically. “Time for plan C.”

“We don’t have a plan C,” Ultra Magnus reported.

“Then improvise.”

From the corner of his optic, Swerve saw a flash of green and he spun around to see Lady Ouida herself. She was climbing over the rubble, apparently trying to reach the fast-firing ballista behind the invaders of her castle. Full of rage at the human who had dared to harm his Conjunx Endurae, Swerve rushed at her, screaming. He tackled her to the ground, grunting as she stabbed a plasma dagger into his side. He would worry about the pain later, when you were safe. For now, he didn’t care, as that was the only weapon she had and she couldn’t retrieve it from his side now that he had her arms firmly in his grasp.

Swerve had always prided himself on being gentle with you, his beloved human. However, with Ouida in his grip, he was all too aware of how easy it would be to crush every bone in her body with only the slightest bit of pressure.

“WHERE IS MY CONJUNX?” He spat at her.

“Dead.” Lady Ouida lied. “As you will be soon enough, robotic scum.”

Swerve didn’t bother to press her on her deception, knowing instinctively that she wouldn’t talk, no matter what he did. Instead, he carried her towards her army, making sure the creatures could see her.

“I HAVE YOUR LEADER,” He roared at them. “LET US PASS, OR I’LL CRUSH HER.”

The organics stopped shooting, eerily expressionless as they lowered their weapons. Ouida shot her captors a disgusted look, hating that they had bested her experimental mutants. They were made to follow orders and protect the castle, but they had also been designed to ensure that she wouldn’t be harmed; with her as a captive, they were useless.

Swerve made his way forward, but Rodimus grabbed his shoulder-plate, pulling him back.

“Hey, loving the energy buddy,” Rodimus complimented Swerve. “Great improv and all, but uh, the Arena is the other way.”

“Oh,” Swerve looked at the mutant army, who were watching Ouida like a dog watching its master. “In that case, don’t follow us, or I’ll crush her.”

“YEAH,” Rodimus fist-pumped the air. “LET’S GO RESCUE (Y/N).”

You didn’t know what to say as you were faced with the many faces of the Lost Light that you thought you’d never see again, but most importantly Swerve. For a moment, you were half-convinced that you were hallucinating again, but then he had pushed Lady Ouida into Drift’s arms and he was holding you.

He kissed your helm, pulling you into his chassis, checking over every inch of you for injuries. “(Y/N),” he murmured. “My (Y/N).”

“Swerve,” You cried his name. “Swerve. I was so scared I’d never see you-”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here now. I love you. Always,” He repeated your message to you, letting you alone know that he had received it.

“Not to interrupt this reunion,” Megatron said sombrely, “But enemy reinforcements could arrive at any moment, and we need to get you two to medical treatment immediately.”

For the first time, you noticed the gash in Swerve’s side, coated with freshly congealed energon; he had taken the dagger out prior to seeing you.

“She hurt you… She-”

It was your turn to scream at Ouida, “YOU HURT MY CONJUNX ENDURAE.”

You reached out to crush her with your good arm, but Drift dragged Ouida into safety, “Sorry (Y/N), but she’s our ticket out of here. If we kill her, we have no leverage.”

You glared at Ouida, “You’re lucky he values all life, you hateful witch.”

Ouida rolled her eyes, unperturbed by the raving antics of a non-organic.

“Come on, (Y/N),” Swerve ushered you ahead of the group. “It’s time for us to go home.”

Home. You thought of your hab-suite aboard the Lost Light where you had built your life with Swerve; you couldn’t wait to get back to it. Letting Swerve cradle you in his arms, you leaned on him and took your first steps back towards home.

Like my work? Buy me a coffee and earn preview of the next fic, or commission me on the commissions page.